Municipal Wasteland
by Damien'sOmen
Summary: Taggart just wanted a night with Liam. But a bite from a stranger off the street had to make things complicated. Smoker/Hunter slash. Future Mpreg is possible. Violence. Language.
1. One

Municipal Wasteland

000  
Basic, Animalistic  
000 

Pulling the hood of his blue-gray jacket over his head, Taggart White left the video game store stepped onto the crowded sidewalk. He shoved his hands into the hoodie pockets and thumbed at a carefully folded piece of paper, and squinted. After a particularly busy day's work at the store, Taggart just wanted to get home, eat, and chill out with a violent game.

Plugging his ear-buds in, the heavy sounds of Mudvayne almost blocked every other sound of the world out – except for the obnoxiously loud, wet coughing coming to the right of him.

Glancing to the side, he saw the offender was a middle-aged man who was hacking viciously into the palms of his hands. Scowling, Taggart figured the man to be one of the people who'd caught the newly spread illness; the sallow, dry skin and sunken cheeks…and he just reeked of a sick person.

Taggart scowled and quickened his pace, moving ahead of the guy until he stopped at the crosswalk. Waiting for the signal, he crossed the street and went down the second-to-the-last block from his apartment building, the street that had the city's main law office on it. This particular block was usually a place he looked forward to passing through. Almost every time he walked down this way, he was sure to see his favorite stranger; a chain-smoking, rough-looking law office worker who always stood outside on the steps.

Today was a lucky one, for the man he gained an attraction for was indeed standing in his usual spot, token cigarette sticking outta his mouth. Taggart, not all that shy, always made sure he and the stranger made eye contact, sometimes even throwing in a devious smirk. The smirk and the stares were always returned with that same hint of lustful attraction.

The guy looked like a good, hard fuck, and Taggart had to admit, that's exactly what he liked. Maybe they'd be able to get together and…?

Feeling even luckier, Taggart whirled back around and headed up the set of concrete steps to where the taller man stood. Not breaking eye contact, he pulled the paper from his pocket and handed it to the smoker.

The older male eyed him for a minute before taking hold of the item, and unfolded it. Looking over the paper-face he ran a hand through his short black hair before removing the cigarette from his mouth. Taking the cancer stick, he held the glowing cherry to a tip of the paper, letting it ignite.

Seeing that paper burned and discarded left Taggart absolutely stunned for a moment. His mouth was gaped open and his blue eyes were wide as he looked from the ashes to the grey, bored eyes of the smoker.

"Y-you fuck," he stammered. "That had my fuckin' name an' number on it!"

The smoker's cocky smirk almost threw Taggart into a violent burst of rage, but the younger male held it all in and stormed down the stairs. Turning sharply, he trudged down the rest of the way to his apartment building, pissed off out of his mind.

000

"What the _fuck _was that shit? I mean, c'mon, he – we - !" He hissed to himself as he struggled to unlock the door to his home.

Finally getting it open, he pushed past the heavy door and slammed it behind himself. Flipping the locks into place, he stormed to his couch and dropped onto it, arms crossed. He stared up at the off-white ceiling, a deep scowl set into his handsome features.

"Asshole was just playin' with me, I guess…"

Shifting himself so that he was on his left side, he grabbed the remote off the arm of the couch and turned on the TV. Flipping through the stations, he stopped when he found Comedy Central, deciding he'd spend the rest of the evening watching stand-up comics.

Great, just what he'd been planning. But, he could use a few laughs right now, so whatever. Jim Gaffigan whimpered something about bacon and Taggart barked out a laugh, his mood brightening just some.

It was about eight o' clock in the evening, two hours after he'd gotten home, when the tinny ringtone of 'Not Falling' screamed into the living room. Wondering who it could be, he lazily removed himself from the couch and walked over to the counter where he'd left his cell. Flipping it open, he pressed the green button and held it to his ear, muttering an absent 'what'.

"What a pleasant way to answer your phone," the gruff voice on the other end answered, a hint of snark in his tone.

Furrowing his brow, Taggart rolled his eyes, "Yeh, whatever. Who is this?"

"Liam Grayson, the guy from the law office."

"The jackass that burned the paper I gave him? That had my number on it, you dick! What the Hell, I was just makin' an offer at ya!"

"Settle down, I burned it because I don't need a paper for reference."

Taggart squinted at the TV, not really understanding the sentence. "Whaddya mean?" he asked.

"Eh, let's just say I got a good memory when it comes to numbers and names."

Feeling slight hope replace the rage in his guts, he tried to keep his tone casual and questioning, "Ah. So, uh, so whaddid ya call for?"

"You basically asked me to. Any conversation's on you, I'm just responding to your request." There was that cockiness again.

Getting frustrated with more than just the guy's attitude, Taggart decided he might as well just be straight-forward with Liam. "Don't really wanna talk, just fuck."

The sudden hacking cough on the other end was more from the cigarettes than any surprise. Taggart wasn't sure, but his ego told him he'd briefly stunned the guy, and he smirked. "Uh-huh," Liam grunted. "And where would you like for this to take place, eh?"

'_ …Wow, does he actually wanna…? Or is this more of his sarcasm shit? _' Shaking his head, Taggart cleared his throat. "Like in my apartment or somethin'; jeez, I dunno, I didn't think you'd wanna."

"Got nothing better to do and it's not a week night. You're cute too, I guess." Taggart could hear the other male light up a cigarette.

Feeling his chest constrict in bottled excitement, the 26-year-old grinned. "So d'ya wanna?"

"Woulda hung up on you if I didn't," Liam stated.

Taggart gave him the directions to his home, which Liam was actually walking distance from, and went back to the couch to wait. Twenty minutes or so later, there was a heavy knock on the door.

With a brief snap of nerves, he drug a hand through his short blond bangs and headed to the door. After peeking through the peep hole, he unlocked the door and opened it, letting Liam in.

Liam pushed passed the younger male and looked around the living room area before heading into the kitchen where he began to dig through random cabinets.

"Dude, what the Hell are you doing?" Taggart asked as he stepped behind him, confusion on his face. It was then that he noticed the bloody bite mark dug into Liam's left shoulder, parts of his skin laced in cuts and scrapes. "Holy fu – what happened?"

Still rifling through the cabinets, knocking random items out, he grunted, "Some fuckin' loser tried to mug me or somethin', bit me. I beat the shit outta him, but he still got me pretty good."

The blond stared for a moment. "Jeez, whole world's goin' crazy…I got a first-aid kit in my bathroom, I'll patch you up there," Taggart stated, jabbing a thumb in the direction he'd intended. Liam nodded and followed after him, careful not to bump his shoulder on a wall as he rounded the corner.

Setting himself down on the toilet, Liam took off his black tie and began to unbutton his white dress shirt, which was now ruined by blood and tears. Slipping the shirt off, he ignored Taggart's amused stares and waited for the kid to get started with wiping away the blood.

As he moved the put alcohol on the bite wound, Taggart's eyes widened and his brow furrowed. "Dude, this thing's already infected-looking!" The wound was an angry red, and was beginning to swell. Beneath some of the visible muscle, small glimmers of yellowed pus were trying to seep their way out.

He shrugged, and then winced automatically. "'Asshole had some wrecked teeth…prolly caught some bacteria from 'em. Just start cleaning it anyway, if it gets any worse I'll have a doctor check it out."

Taggart gave his own shrug and pressed the alcohol-soaked pads to the bite. Liam hissed, but other than that he took the wound-dressing with ease. He continued onto the scratches, which were also gaining an infected appearance, but he just chalked it up the attacker having filthy fingernails. Maybe the guy was homeless?

Once the bandaging was all finished, the two were quick to remove the rest of their clothes as they stumbled into the darkness of Taggart's bedroom. The two were careful to avoid Liam's new damages, but otherwise were rough and forceful, both men in ecstasy for the night.

The only other sound in the apartment home was whatever noise came from the television set in the living room.

000

Liam lay in the tangled sheets of Taggart's small double-bed, staring up at the shadows passing over the ceiling. Taggart was passed out with his head against Liam's safe shoulder, and all was quiet, though the distant sound of the television could be heard.

Snorting softly to himself, he thought about how the past day would've been like any other day had this kid not randomly come up to him from the street. Good thing he remembered the phone number…

He sighed contentedly, feeling the stickiness of remaining sweat and semen, knowing he'd really need a shower in the morning. Looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand and seeing that it was well past 2 in the morning, he figured that'd be soon enough.

Looking down at the masculine but gentle features on Taggart's face, another thought came to is tired mind; this kid, though he'd only known him for a couple of hours, was starting to grow on him. It was probably his stubbornness. Yeh, he was glad the past day ended up being different from the rest.

Just as a smile began to settle on his face, it quickly turned into an awkward frown of rushing pain, and he bit back a cry. A horrible burning sensation burst around the wound on his shoulder and began to spread its way through his body, especially making home in his chest.

Despite the pain in his left arm, he clutched desperately at his chest and clenched his yellowed teeth tightly against each other. His lungs felt so weird inside him, hammering bizarrely against his ribcage as he breathed in, like they were expanding and retracting. The skin on the left side of his body began to itch insanely, and his throat started to feel constricted.

He had to get to the bathroom and see what the fuck was going on. Managing to free himself without waking Taggart, he stumbled into the bathroom and threw on the light switch.

What met his sight when he looked in the mirror almost knocked him back against the wall, but he could only blink dumbly. The skin that had been itching so fiercely looked as though it was pulsing, moving like it was trying to stretch some. As for the skin on the rest of his body, it'd become a sickly gray-green color, dry and death-like. His lips were chapped and blackened and his teeth appeared to be rotting and sharpening rapidly – much like the nails on his fingers. His eyes, once gray and tired, were now almost white and were bloodshot, sunken into his sweaty face.

He shook his head till it ached, and dropped to the floor to gather his clothes and get dressed. When he stood back up, clothes and hair in a disheveled mess, he whimpered in disgust and fright. The skin that'd been moving had now swelled into bubble-like boils, and they throbbed on his head and neck sides, pulsating on down to his left shoulder blade and pectoral.

What disturbed him most was the feeling inside of him that made it seems as if his organs were rearranging – or reforming. And his tongue…it seemed to be extending! And with each new inch of extension, it retracted itself within his throat through a newly formed pocket of skin.

Ruined eyes wide and fearful at the sight, he back up and out of the bathroom. He ran to the kitchen's outer counter and grabbed a notepad and pen off it, starting to write furiously. He was surprised that he was still able to write, despite his horrific transformation, but that was the least of his problems. He scribbled out an apology note for Taggart, good luck to the boy if he could read it, and when he was done he tore out of the apartment building and down the street, new speed and agility to his movements.

He was never one to freak out, never over-dramatize anything…but now he was out of his mind in a panic, as scared as he'd ever been. He could only hope that Taggart would be okay, and that all of this was just some crazy, fucked up dream he'd wake up from.

But why wasn't he waking up?

000

Story, characters © Davi J. Mills.  
Left 4 Dead and all associated © Valve and Turtle Rock.


	2. Two

Municipal Wasteland 2

000  
To the Dogs  
000

Taggart thought he'd wake up the next morning happy and _very _well rested. Much to his great misfortune, he was instead greeted with a newly-forming migraine, as well as violent anger upon realizing that Liam was nowhere to be found.

He'd woken up feeling for the other warm body, but didn't find it; he got out of bed and began to search the house. There was no trace of Liam anywhere, except for blood that'd dripped to the floor in a light trailing pattern.

Flying into a sudden, overly-violent rage storm, he punched a hole through one of his doors and promptly stunned himself. The wrecked wooden door bounced a few times against the wall, one of the metal hinges coming undone.

Taggart stared looked to his newly-bloodied knuckles. Where the hell did all this adrenaline come from? So he'd been fucked and left, it'd happened before, but when did he gain that kind of brute strength and moodiness from something so normally petty to him?

After a moment, he shrugged it off and decided he'd settle himself down with a glass of Coke and a sandwich. It was nearly noon, so why not get into lunch?

He pulled on a set of baggy jeans and buckled the belt as he headed into the kitchen. Going through the cabinet reserved for medicine, a wave of queasiness washed over him and he almost fell over from the vertigo. He caught the cabinet door and gripped tight.

"Jeez, musta caught a weird cold or somethin'…" he mumbled, sniffling. Steadying himself against the counter, he reached up and pulled out the bottle of ibuprofen, twisting the cap open. Spilling a tablet onto the counter-face, he figured it'd be best to skip the sandwich and go for some soup instead.

Scratching at his bared stomach, he busied himself in the kitchen until his lunch was ready, and then made his way to the living room couch to eat. It was only after he'd eaten and done the dishes when he finally noticed the note Liam had left for him.

_'Fucking sick all of a sudden...Sorry I left you by yourself. I'll try to call you later, but I gotta see the doctor. – L.' _

The note was sloppy and hastily written, almost illegible, showing that Liam had most certainly left in a hurry and that he must've really been sick. Was it because of that bite…? Or was he just sick before that?

Thinking about his newborn cold, Taggart shuddered at the thought of it getting any worse. His heart nearly skipped a beat when a horrible thought came to his mind; what if one – or both – had caught that virus, the one that was going around this city, making people act all weird and crazy?

Feeling frantic, Taggart bounded down the hallway and into his room where he gathered his hoodie from yesterday, and threw it on along with socks and his beat-up Chucks. Slipping on his ratty fingerless gloves for the fall chill, he grabbed his house keys and exited the apartment. Once he'd locked up, he tore down the stairwell and raced out the door.

An unusual burst of speed kicked into his step, and he ran even faster towards Mercy Hospital. He had a strange idea in the back of his mind to get on all fours and run in that form, but then he just felt stupid and kept to his two feet. He snorted; was he gonna be a dog now, too?

The people around him were like blurs, and he'd somehow manage to dodge all of them. They were sparser than normal, not as many crowds like there usually were on a sunny Saturday. Maybe others were getting sick, too?

He sure hoped the damn hospital wouldn't be filled to the brim. With any luck, he'd catch Liam there and see if he was okay, ask a desk clerk about him or something. First though, he'd have to get himself checked by a doctor.

His tightened expression slackened in relief when the plasma-lit sign reading 'Mercy' appeared in the sky before him, and he quickened his dash before halting at the main entrance. He was almost knocked down by a gurney-pushing crew of medics, and as he watched them rush inside, he saw just how many people were in the waiting room.

Even the floor space looked taken up.

Feeling a mental raincloud go over him, his shoulders slumped and he gave a ragged, tired sigh. Once he exhaled, a thought occurred to him. He'd run almost seven blocks without stopping, and he wasn't even panting. He felt a little sore, sure, but the only tightness he felt in his chest was minor. In fact, he felt he could run a bit more if he wanted to.

Taking this as a sign that he may just be completely healthy but with a tiny cold, he shrugged and turned back in the direction towards home. Okay, maybe he'd just overreacted. No big deal, it could happen to anyone, especially when this kind of illness-scare was going on.

He chuckled to himself as he was reminded of the mass panic over that swine flu outbreak not too long ago.

Scratching at the back of his head, he put his gloved hands into his hoodie pockets and started walking down the street. He would've liked to have been able to ask a desk clerk about Liam, but he figured the guy might've already gone home. Plus he definitely didn't want to interfere with the people in the waiting room.

He was just gonna go home and go about doing what he should've done yesterday – play some video games. There was a newly-bought first-person-shooter in his living room just a-callin' his name. His fingers twitched at the thought of getting his hands on the controller, being able to blow an enemy's head off…

Looking forward to that, all worry went elsewhere in his mind as he argued with himself about what character he wanted to play as.

000

As he clicked rapidly at the controller's buttons, Taggart noticed that his nails had grown in really fast, and that he'd have to clip them soon. Odd, he'd just clipped the things two days ago and they were already almost past his fingertips. Stupid skin cells…

He paused his game and glanced down at the nails, look of confusion crossed his face. Did his nails seem darker colored, or was it just a trick of the light? They looked almost smoky-gray, but that may just have been because he had all the lights off.

"This...has just been a bizarre day," Taggart mused to himself, rubbing at an index nail. As he stared at the hard skin, he gave an awkward belch and felt bile rise in his throat, coughing out of surprise. When he pulled his hand back from his mouth, his features contorted into a disgusted look. On the side of his right hand were specks of dark, blue-green liquid. It was thick and had a stench similar to rot.

Figuring it to be some nasty snot-mucus, he shrugged and wiped the spatter on the couch, going back to his game.

"Gross."

As fun as the game was, he'd been playing it for almost three hours now, and it was time to get some rest. After he saved he got up to shut the system off and headed towards the bathroom.

Flipping the light on, he gathered his toothbrush and the paste and got it ready. Leaning forward at the mirror, he made a face when he saw the deep yellow color of his teeth. _'Guh, 'guess I need to brush more often or something…those're nasty-lookin'.' _

Scrubbing against the small pieces of bone and calcium, he noticed his eyes had become more bloodshot, the sockets more dark and sunken. God, he needed sleep.

He spat into the sink, not even seeing the smears of red mixed with the blue foam, and swished water around his mouth, spitting again. Wiping his face, he shut off the bathroom light and went right to his room, dropping face-first onto the bed. He was too tired to change, so he decided he'd sleep with his day clothes on.

He went to sleep thinking of Liam. He spent that sleep having nightmares of horrible, godless monsters.

000

Despite how severe the nightmares had been Taggart never woke up during the night, though he did thrash manically and stick with sweat. When he did finally get up at ten the next morning, he just shook his head and waited for the pace of his heart to settle back to normal.

He rubbed hard at his eyes, and when he opened them, his vision seemed to be clearer than it had ever been. That was weird; just earlier this week he was on the verge of going out and buying glasses. Must've been due to lack of sleep or something, messing up his eyes like that, and when he finally gets a full amount of sleep they just go back to normal.

He wasn't a doctor; he could only just make assumptions.

Taggart rolled over and sat up, stretching. Widening his dry mouth with a yawn, he yelped when he clamped his jaws shut. When he'd closed his mouth, his tongue had gotten caught between both sets of teeth and had now begun bleeding. Instinctively, he licked at his bloodied teeth and thought that they felt a little sharper than usual.

Getting out of bed, he wandered into the bathroom, not delighting in the crackling his stiff joints made. Standing in front of the mirror, he snapped open his mouth and twisted his sore, bloody tongue to its side, inspecting the deep gash.

He hissed at the sight and filled a plastic cup with water, swishing the cool liquid in his mouth and spitting it out. The pink-tinted water swirled around the sink before slipping into the drain.

Looking back into the mirror, Taggart cringed at the sight of himself looking worse than he had before. Grayed skin, sunken, bloodshot eyes, chapped mouth…what the hell was going on..?

He sighed heavily, not knowing what to do. He wanted to feel worried, scared…but more than anything else he was just simply annoyed. He also felt really hungry, like he hadn't eaten in a week. His gut growled at him in emphasis.

This wasn't a normal kind of 'I'm hungry' type of feeling. It was more irritable, made him feel like he was absolutely starving. His insides burned to be filled 'til he couldn't eat anymore.

Rubbing at his whining stomach, Taggart left the bathroom and went into the kitchen, wondering what he should eat. Jeez, whatever sickness he had, it was really making him weird.

The second he got to the fridge, he practically tore the massive metal box apart, searching for anything meat-related. He growled happily when he found a huge slab of raw steak on one of the shelves, and tearing the plastic wrap off, he began to chow down ravenously. He was like a feral dog with a bone, eating the steak off the floor while on all fours.

He kept his palms flat on the linoleum as he tore into the helpless meat, his teeth shredding it easily. If someone else had been watching him, they might find the whole scene slightly comical, albeit disgusting. Taggart played a little with the slab, swinging it across the floor and shaking his head, smearing lines of pinkish blood with each drag.

Finally, he began to chew and swallow chunks of the meat, bloody spittle dribbling from his gnashing jaws, a smile on his face. Once he finished his meal, he sat up into a crouching position and growled throatily, feeling only a little settled. Tilting his head to the left, he lifted a clawed foot and scratched roughly behind his own ear, almost purring at the sensation.

Oddly enough, he was completely unaware of this unusual behavior, the only real thoughts in his mind now focused on food and burning some energy.

As he wandered into the living room, still on all fours, a sliver of sunlight caught his eye, and he looked towards the window. Raising a brow in curiosity, he crawled over to it and looked out through the glass. Pushing back the curtains to get a better view, he flicked the metal latch and opened the window. He stuck his head out and he looked up to the top of the building.

Some inner instinct in the back of his mind told him he should climb up to that top.

Without any concern for danger, he slipped out of the window and latched a hand onto the wall, claws and fingers flawlessly taking hold. At an unbelievable speed, he crawled up the wall like a lizard, the roof of the building getting closer and closer. At last, he reached his destination, hopping onto the flat cement face. Turning, he peered over the ledge and burst into a round of giggles.

The people of the street seemed not to notice, not that there were very many of them in the first place, and he marveled at how high up above them he was. He breathed in the city air, which was smoggy, but clearer from the height.

Upon experiencing all this, a sudden rush of blood went to his head, and the adrenaline in his body went up 100%. Swerving to the left, he crouched before bursting into a full run towards the edge of the rooftop. In one small effort, he launched himself off the building and onto the roof of the one across from him. Landing gracefully, he leapt into the air and spun, laughing happily.

When he hit the roof again, he almost stumbled, realization finally coming to him, as well as more questions than he could answer.

_'Wha-what am I becoming…?' _Taggart asked himself, staring wide-eyed at a gray, clammy hand.

He shivered as the evening chill began to settle in, the black of the night beginning to over-take the sky.

000

Story, characters © Davi J. Mills.  
All associated with Left 4 Dead © Valve.


	3. Three

**Author's note – In response to the first reviewer, I've decided that yes, there will be an m-preg character later on in this. And for readers of this who are not m-preg fans or are not sure about it, I'm going to try to make it as realistic as possible (even easier to explain in a zombie genre) and…well, I don't quite know. I'm just hoping I'll be able to appeal to all audiences.**

**Any questions, comments, or critiques, stuff I could add or take away? Thank you. –D.**

Municipal Wasteland 3

000  
Stumble Forth  
000

Liam struggled to breath as wet and rough coughs ripped out of his throat.

Stalking through the late-night city streets, he felt a hunger grow in his belly, strong and demanding. He didn't know what he'd want; lately, everything tasted like it was burnt. Well, everything except for meat.

Back in his 'old' days, he was a ravenous carnivore, but right now, he'd love to be able to taste the fine burning syrup of Jaegermeister rather than a slab of meat.

A fat, juicy, _bloody_ slab of meat…

He growled low in his mucus-thickened throat as his mouth began to wet. Come to think about it, anything meat-related was actually starting to sound _really _good. Getting an odd, sudden urge, he slipped into the heavy shadows of an alleyway and waited.

For some reason, he'd wanted to get into cannibalism. Maybe it was his sickness getting to him, making him lose his mind. Ever since that morning after the night at Taggart's, the thought of a plump, bloody bicep in his mouth was just too good a thought to shove away. It was a thought so delicious-sounding it made his jeans tighten in response.

Due to the Sickness, public had been rather sparse lately. People were afraid for their safety, not entirely sure just how contagious this new disease was. Many of them even got out of town, some permanent and some temporarily, hoping that if they ever came back, the sick would be gone.

Liam backed further into the alleyway, barely taking notice of an Infected standing a few feet behind him. It hissed a little, acknowledging him, before turning its attention back to a random spot on the brick wall before it.

Liam waited, he guessed for nearly an hour or so, for a 'human' to walk by. After a long while, his wishes were finally answered as the sounds of rapidly moving feet reached his ears. Grinning, his tongue started to unfurl out of its skin-pocket.

He let himself get ready as the footsteps neared – someone must be getting chased -, his tongue darting out the instant the person's frame came into view. They screamed in pure fright as they were quickly pulled into the tight embrace of Liam.

He unraveled his tongue from the body and retracted it, his super-human strength keeping a controlling grasp on the torso of his food. He looked down and made eye-contact with his catch.

The 'victim' was a boy, aged sixteen at most. He was frail, and gorgeous. Black hair framed a pale, sweaty face, and wide blue baby-eyes stared up at him. His pierced mouth was barely gaped open, shaking like the rest of his body.

Tears slid down his face, and the feeling of his frantically beating heart against Liam's arm emphasized the absolute fear he was feeling. Liam absolutely relished it.

A small horde of Infected rounded the alley corner and made their way towards the kid and his captor. They hissed and screamed, ravenous with hunger, leaping over anything in their way as they hurriedly rushed to the source of food.

The smoker knew there was no option of sharing with these lesser zombies. If they even got a sampling of the kid, they'd take him away and engulf the feast before Liam could even get a bite.

Liam watched these idiots barrel towards him and knew that the one behind his back would soon make an attempt at the kid, its repeated growls hinting that.

Whipping his tongue out, he wrapped his it around the neck of the infected behind him and in a flash snapped the thin tower of flesh and tendon. Practically inhaling his tongue, he cleared his throat and lowered his mouth toward the boy's ear.

"_It's either me_," he panted, well aware that his scent could easily suffocate the kid, "_or them_." No doubt the kid could understand a garbled word that fell out of the tongued-beast's mouth, but  
he still never took his eyes off the 'man' that held onto him.

Liam took the continued, desperate stare as an answer and, throwing his head back; he opened his mouth and wailed an ear-piercing, inhuman roar.

The zombies before them suddenly stopped, staying still in their positions. Liam glared at them with the most brutal of stares, and, as if he'd vocally commanded them to, the Infected backed off and left the alleyway, stumbling off into separate directions. They'd find prey elsewhere, the damned scavengers.

Liam threw the boy up onto his shoulder and leapt onto the ladder attached to the side of one of the buildings. With unbelievable speed, he climbed the metal rails and in no time was on the roof.

Trudging to the middle of the roof, Liam stopped and let the kid fall hard onto the cement. The teen blinked slowly as light droplets of rain began to pelt his face. He lay there, vulnerability written all over him, and Liam took close notice to this.

Still standing, the smoker slowly circled his victim, inspecting. When he stole a glance at the torso, he saw the skin that was bared by the uplift of the shirt. Staring at the milky-white, rain-wetted skin, Liam felt a new hunger beginning to blend with the old one.

As he thought more about it, this kid was too damn pretty to tear apart – right away, at least. Liam wanted_ all_ of him.

Grinning like a madman, he dropped to his knees, and with rough hands he undid the fastenings of the helpless teenager's jeans. The kid didn't once slap at the intrusive hands, just lay there looking one for complete disbelief. Once opened, he slid them down the small, pale hips and nearly growled aloud at the sight before him.

Miles and miles of smooth, creamy skin met his gaze. The owner of the body merely stayed still and cried softly to himself, deciding he'd let whatever would happen, happen.

Liam stared intently, thoughts racing through his mind. He was going to violate this boy and make a damn fine meal out of him. It was an easy, nearly painless task - definitely better than what would've happened had the boy been caught by that horde. At that thought he chuckled a low, dry laugh.

As he slicked his massive erection, he felt a sorrowful wish peck at his heart, a wish of having his old handsome face rather than this current mutation.

He knew it was stupid thinking, but he couldn't really help it. One side was mostly attractive while the other was a festering mass of sores and smog chambers. Liam was almost glad the teen was too broken to really care about his 'savior's' appearance. Not that the kid would have a choice in the matter, he was still going to meet an unkind end.

He took hold of the knees and shoved them back against the kid's chest before lifting the waist onto his lap. He lined up the head of his cock with the entrance and went for it, feeling himself stiffen impossibly more-so once he was enveloped by the tight warmth.

The teen beneath him screamed in pain, now giving the monster a real reaction. The raven-haired male sobbed and mewled as Liam thrust into him, once still hands now raining down against whatever he could hit.

Liam would bet that never in this kid's life could he have ever thought his virginity would be taken away by some super-zombie. He chuckled to himself again.

All reasonable thoughts vanished from Liam's mind as he hit the edge, and he suddenly clamped down on the teen's throat, silencing the noises. He dug in deep before practically hauling the majority of the throat out of its original placement. Jaws were set to work and he chewed the huge bite, reveling in its warmth and taste. Arterial spray brought a macabre rain shower down on the two, staining Liam's already dirtied clothes and wetting his mottled skin with bright flecks of red.

He swallowed thickly and emptied himself of rotten seed before he dropped the boy and stood, tucking himself back into his jeans. After clumsily buckling his belt, he went for the kid's exposed belly. He flayed the top layer of flesh and fat from the stomach and hungrily tore into that, his crimson mouth and hands moving fast, greedily.

000

Taggart hopped absent-mindedly from building to building, wondering only when his next meal would be. He'd just feasted upon a couple, and despite how it'd scared the hell oughtta him initially, they tasted so good and were so filling…

Obviously not filling enough; he wanted more. Odd how earlier that day he'd been content with a slab of raw steak before suddenly escalating to live human.

As he leapt to the next building, a waft of air filled his lungs. The scent carried by the breeze stunned him so greatly that he'd lost concentration, crash-landing on the face of the roof.

He rolled and flipped violently before coming to an abrupt halt. Groaning at the newly-gained pains, he shakily stood back onto his fours and tried to regain his balance.

Once adjusted, he shook his hooded head and raised it, flaring his nostrils as he sniffed the air again. Moving closer to the roof's edge, he kept sniffing until he caught the scent again.

He mulled its familiarity over in his mind as he tried to recollect just what it belonged to and why it was so effective. On his fours, he tottered around in a few circles before halting in his tracks, an impish smile forming on his mottled face.

_Liam. _

He barked a happy growl and went to locate the direction of the scent's origins. He was so excited, he was finally gonna see Liam again. This time they wouldn't get separated and he'd make certain of that.

Taggart hated to lose what was rightfully his.

000

All associated with Municipal Wasteland © Davi J. Mills.  
Anything else © Original/Rightful Owners.  
Left 4 Dead and all associated © Valve.


	4. Four

A/N: Evilness and Anonymous – I went through the chapters and corrected things, took stuff out and added in. Hopefully it made for a much better reading than the original one. Thank you everyone for your reviews! Apologies for the short chapter here.

Municipal Wasteland 4

000

A Rompin' Good Time

000

Taggart crawled along the sidewalk, palms of his bloodied, calloused hands slapping dryly against the pavement. Dropping suddenly onto his behind for a moment, he raised a Chuck-covered foot and hurriedly scraped the side of it against his blond head. The hood of his jacket flipped back as he contented the itch in his scalp.

Giving a moment to rid of a new itch in his light five-o'-clock shadow, he got back onto his fours and continued to trot down the street. The scent still strong his nose, he was on his way to find Liam. Maybe the guy was like him? That'd be pretty cool; they could be like hairless werewolves or some shit together, whatever the hell this whole thing was…

One thing Taggart sort of liked about this madness was the ability to still think. He'd seen his… "lesser" cohorts in action and so far they'd shown none of the signs of remote intelligence like the "special" guys and girls did. Different reactions for different people?

Speak of the Devil; one of the dumbasses kneed him in the cheek as it stumbled by. It fell forward onto its front after catching a shoeless foot on Taggart's hand, Taggart growling in irritation. He wouldn't admit to himself that he should've been paying attention.

He gave a kick at the meaty lump of a former man, the latter moaning lamely, and he furthered his way down Johansen St. With each grunt of air came a little snarl or huff as he trotted across the cracked, cold concrete.

Somewhere in the distance of the city a woman's shriek of pain rang out in the air and his ears twitched in response to it. He'd have to find his own meal, soon, if his panging stomach was any hint at that.

The further he went down Johansen – now merged onto Miller - , Liam's scent got stronger. So did the sounds of wet hacking. Ears perked, he broke into a short sprint to go find the owner of these coughs. He'd met a few guys earlier who'd done that, dubbing them 'smokers' for stench and sounds that came from them. Most of them were pretty surly. He figured it was the new need for flesh rather than tobacco.

000

Liam stood atop one of the Jim's Pawn rooftop corner edges. It was quiet all around him, minus the eerie whispering of the occasional breeze through the broken window glass of the abandoned building. He eyed the surrounding area, what of it he could see through the residual fire smoke.

Licking his greenish teeth, he thumbed uncoordinatedly at the hem of his stained jeans before slipping his hands in his pockets. The casual action was made awkward by the new adjustment his left shoulder had made; the area had reformed and risen itself higher up than its right brethren.

Stupid shit like that was what made him really begin to miss his humanity.

He was also having the occasional fight with the additional lengthening of his tongue. He never knew much about frogs and lizards when he was human, so his …zombified brain? really had no idea how to adjust to the damn thing. He did find a nifty skin pocket towards the back of his throat late last night, so he figured he work something out with that.

He roughed a hack, the nasty sound echoing off the cavernous walls of the surrounding smoke-stained buildings.

A guttural growl responded.

Liam chanced a look down to the streets and saw a blond zombie staring up at him. The face looked oddly familiar, but he'd seen a lot more than usual – attached and removed -, so he couldn't be sure who it might be. Judging by the stupid dog-pose and flaring nostrils, this kid was one of them springy, hunting types he'd had the occasion to see.

"Need something?" He grunted. To a human – now labeled "survivor" – the speech would have been garbled and animalistic, but to a fellow monster, the words were clear enough.

He squinted as the blond hunkered down closer to the road for a moment. The boy paused, then, as if shot from a cannon, sprung from the street and landed himself in a noisy thud atop the roof and beside Liam. The smoker stepped back some and scowled.

"Hey, I ain't looking for friends…"

The kid eased forward on his hands and actually had the audacity to take a sniff or two off Liam's leg. The smoke-stenched monster growled and shoved the four-legger off. "Hey!" he barked. "I ain't interested!"

Falling back onto his rear, the blond tilted his head. "Liam..?" he tried, his tone hesitant.

Liam thought that face looked familiar, despite the death's make-over it'd recently received. He stepped forward and playfully cuffed at the hunter's shoulder, though his aim was a little off. "You punk, I thought you were dead!"

"Ah! Ha-ha, now you know it's me?" Taggart jabbed, hopping excitedly from one set of limbs to the other.

"Back off. I think it's safe to say you look a little different from your usual self."

"You aren't so handsome yourself, buddy." The hunter scratched at his chin, his black nails moving in a brief flurry before halting.

Liam gave an awkward shrug. "Tell me about it. I used to get idiots like you throwing themselves at me all the time for my rugged looks. Now not even those crying whores wanna get by me." He smirked some when Taggart barked a laugh.

They were quiet for a moment, the sounds of the city filling in for them, before Taggart glanced back up at Liam. He licked at his plaque-thickened teeth and asked, "Up for a chow-down?"

Liam sighed – at least as well as a zombie could sigh – before snapping a nod. "Yeh. Smell anything good in the air?"

Raising his head and flaring his nostrils, the beast gave rapid inhales before his face split into a grin. "Oh, yeh, I think I may have found a thing or two," the last word nearly faded as Taggart broke off into a flying leap over to the next building, Liam following close behind in long, fast strides.

000

Story, characters © Davi J. M.

Left 4 Dead and all associated © Valve.


	5. Five

Municipal Wasteland 5

000

Taggart's feet and palms slammed against the rooftops at a speed he'd never once reached in his human life. His mouth hung open in a gape, guttural noises of ravenous hunger spilling out from his throat as the spittle flew off in all directions. Thickened, powerful muscles flexed and shifted with each rapid movement, all animal instincts pounding out of his brain in full force.

He was starved. He'd eaten pounds of flesh in his last meal not four hours ago, but something in him told him it just wasn't enough, that his gut was empty and he _needed_ to feed.

The scent of live meat grew stronger in his nostrils and he breathed a growl of excitement. His ears twitched and flicked as the echoing sounds of a cursing man and short bursts of gunfire grew louder.

His body rocketed across the low rooftops of the suburban area until his white, bloodshot eyes caught sight of his prey. The unwitting man was firing off shots at the hunter's dumber brethren just as quickly as he was spitting out cocky, self-assured insults. As Taggart charged, his mind and body rapidly calculated distance and basic instinct before taking a flying leap off the last roof.

The man had no idea he was on the ground 'til the air rushed back into his bruised lungs, each frightened inhale accompanied by a sharp pain from a stabbing, cracked rib. His hands pawed helplessly at the wildly thrashing monster that was practically burking him. The guns he'd been firing not two seconds ago were now thrown far out of reach, and the machete at his hip was blocked by the thigh of the beast.

The man wept and begged as each progressively weakening strike beat at the hunter's chest. The blond zombie only snarled and tore in response until the former survivor's chest was a gaping cave of spreading red and exposed bone.

Taggart ducked his head and began to feast on a messy lung, reveling in the taste and feeling his gut rumble with excitement. Other zombies made an attempt to step forward and take a bite but were quickly warded off by warning growls and swipes with a bloodied hand.

Throughout all this, Taggart had completely forgotten about his companion. Liam trudged up beside him and bent down, reaching out to tear off a chunk of meat. Taggart snatched the offending arm in his clawed hand and snapped his head up, his mouth up in a nasty, threatening snarl. The expression eased when he saw it was only Liam.

"Greedy much?" the smoker grunted before shaking off the hand and ripping off some choice muscle. He brought it to his mouth and bit down, juices seeping, and only gave a grunt of pleasure. Unlike his cohort, he could better control himself when it came to feeding time. He figured he'd have to teach him some dinner manners at some point.

For the next twenty minutes or so they fed, and when their hunger was satiated – if temporarily – they left the street, their remains now for the other zombies.

Taggart wanted to explore the city, see what'd happened to his old home, and Liam really had nothing better to do but follow. The two headed down Frost and went on from there, commenting on the occasional heavy-duty red doors that'd been applied to certain buildings and wondering what they'd been for.

At one point in their little exploration, Taggart had stepped close to take a sniff at one of these doors but had been pulled away by Liam when the cocking of a heavy weapon could be heard from behind it.

"Ignore those," He said, hauling the hunter a few feet away before releasing him. "We couldn't get in anyway if we tried."

The hunter chanced a short glance back and nodded once before crawling along behind Liam.

000

"Lie down." Liam ordered.

Taggart didn't falter in his relentless stalking around the room they were in. Liam figured the damn kid had circled the place at least 64 times by now, and if he wasn't fucking annoyed, then he didn't know what he was. He waited for the hunter to walk by him before his hand flew out and snagged the hood of the navy-colored jacket.

Taggart yelped in surprise as he was yanked to the dusty, stained floor.

"I said _lie down_," Liam snarled through grit teeth, his musky, rotten breath hot against Taggart's ear. The younger male halted all actions and waited for Liam to let go.

The smoker bit – whether it was playfully or warningly, Taggart couldn't be sure – at the hunter's throat and released him. He then dropped back to the floor in a heap, a thin cloud of smoke fuming out of his nostrils.

Taggart lay down beside the elder zombie, arms drawn up and folded beneath his mottled, bloody chin. He tongued his teeth and wondered what his companion's problem was. He knew right away when he first got involved with Liam that the man had douchebag tendencies about him, but that was no excuse for that little outburst just now.

Liam must've noticed the sudden silence from his companion, grunting, "Something wrong?"

"Weird, I was just going to ask you the same thing," Taggart snapped nestling further into his folded arms. He figured if Liam was gonna be an ass for no reason then he should give it right back at him.

"Fuck you," Liam kicked at Taggart's nearest leg to his own and rolled over onto his side.

"No, fuck you, you dick!" Taggart flew up from his down position and was on his haunches in an instant. He shoved at the smoker's shoulder, "I don't know what your problem is but you don't need to get all hissy-fitting with me just 'cause I was walking around the fucking room!"

Liam whirled around to face the hunter and was on his own feet now, glaring down at the other male. "You wanna know what my problem is? Going to bed as a human one night and then as a fucking smoke-blowing monster the next! I have just begun to realize what a shit situation we're in and it's taking a massive toll on my nerves. And, I certainly don't need something as stupid as your faggy little quirks and habits grating on them like you know they are."

Taggart rolled his eyes and jabbed a disbelieving finger. "Are you fucking kidding me? Has no one ever defined the word 'adapt' to you? Well learn it, asshole, because that's all we can hope to do now with this shit situation as you call it."

Before he could even comprehend what had just happened, the hunter was slammed against a cracked, mildewed cement wall. A gust of musty breath wheezed its way out of his rotten lungs. Growling deep in his throat, he swung a heavy hand and his claws ripped against the left side of his attacker's face. In mid-swing, the claws had caught one of the thinly-skinned gas pockets and smoke billowed out around the two monsters.

Taggart's head was snapped back with a hard punch to the jaw and cracked loudly against the wall. He sat dizzy for a moment, his vision swimming, and before he could adjust properly, the same move was applied again. He swung blindly now, trying to allow his vision to adjust as he attempted to strike out against the smoker again.

A few rough swipes were made against the smoker's shoulder, and another gas pocket was burst, before the hunter was swiftly hefted up off his feet and thrown against the opposite wall. He dropped onto his front to the cold floor, his eyes darting the room as he tried to make out Liam's location through the rank green fog in the room.

In a second a heavy body was on top of him, raining vicious blows to his back and shoulders. He didn't need the tell-tale hacks and roars to know who it was. Unable to get back up and in desperation for his spine not to be shattered, he screamed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, okay? Fuck, just get off me, please, Liam!"

After a moment, the blows ceased but the weight on his lower back remained. "Really, now," the smoker's tone was biting, still bitter.

"Yes – Christ, you're gonna fucking kill me, knock it off!" Taggart scrabbled at the floor, his thick nails leaving little white trails in the cement. He wiggled and bucked, trying to throw Liam off himself.

The slight panic in the younger male's voice – not to mention the constant, convenient movement – cause a stirring in Liam's loins and a different kind of hunger settled in the pit of his gut. He remained where he was, a smile forming over his putrid teeth. He thrust at Taggart's ass, holding back a laugh.

"Oh my God, ugh – Liam, fuck off, dude, you're being a complete prick," He shoved back at the smoker's broad chest, though it was a weak attempt from the awkward angle. The move only managed to get his arm restrained behind his back, further limiting his movement.

"Shit," he growled, "You're not funny, you know."

"You think I'm kidding around? Dumbass." The older man shifted and deftly flipped the hunter onto his sore back. His hands then went for his zipper, "Open up and suck me off."

"No," Taggart replied, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh?" Liam halted his hands for a moment, his expression mockingly quizzical, "And why is that, hm?"

"Well, I think that since you busted up my jaw so badly it'll be too sore to take you," the smaller one huffed, shrugging awkwardly.

"You'll get over it," Liam's dick was now out of his dirty jeans and facing Taggart's blood-stained mouth, waiting for gratification.

"Good luck coming, loser." He scowled but snapped his mouth open anyway, letting Liam fill the entrance. '_Zombie cock…_' he thought absent-mindedly. It certainly wasn't the only weird thing he'd ever had in his mouth; viscera had just been in there not three hours ago.

Above him, Liam grunted in approval, the palms of his hands smacking down on either side of his lover's head. He thrust his hips and shoved himself further down that welcoming throat. Meanwhile, Taggart thanked whatever cruel god did this to them that he didn't really need air anymore.

Liam looked down and wanted to laugh; Taggart lie on his back with a cock in his mouth, sucking wonderfully, even though his arms were still crossed defiantly. Sometimes the kid's stubbornness was cute. …Sometimes.

To his – very – mild surprise though, Taggart unfurled his arms and set his hands on Liam's inner thighs. The hunter moved his thumb to gently stroke the junction between his lover's groin and thigh. Just above the main source of the pleasing, the little action sent jolts of pleasure through Liam's nerves.

The snapping of hips and the wet sounds of sucking continued for a few more minutes before Liam's grayed body stiffened and his odd breathing hitched. Within seconds, cum filled Taggart's mouth, some dribbling from the lips as the rest slid down his throat.

Liam pulled out and sat back onto his haunches, panting and wheezing. He lifted a hand and slipped his cock back into his jeans before zipping up the fly. When Taggart raised his knees, Liam lay back against them and sat himself on the younger's lower gut. He felt the smaller male's erection against his rear and promptly ignored it.

"I don't get a thank-you?" Taggart sat up; supporting himself with his hands planted on the floor behind him, and gave his lover a hardly scathing look.

The brunet chuckled around a cough as he shook his head. "Dunno if it was good enough to get any real appreciation,_ sweetheart_." The satisfied, placid look in his eyes however, betrayed any of the words he'd just said.

"I should punch you for that line of bullshit," Taggart playfully warned before leaning forward to press a sloppy, affectionate peck against the other's cooled lips.

"You could try," Liam retorted, giving a quick kiss back. He furrowed his brows when the blond pressed his forehead against his own. "What?"

"Not to sound like a total fag, but I really am sorry for all that previous shit."

"Don't worry about it; I was just being a dumbass. This really isn't much to cry over, I guess." As if he'd asked her to, a witch somewhere off in the distance wailed, her cry echoing through the neighborhood. The two men laughed some at that, their sour breaths mingling.

After a long minute of almost comfortable silence, Taggart asked, "So, what do we do now?"

Liam shrugged, "I dunno, make an attempt at surviving? Or did you mean like, _now_ now?"

Taggart snorted and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man."

The two sighed as they quieted, letting the sounds of the dying city fill in the void for the rest of the night.

000

End Chapter 5.


	6. Six

Municipal Wasteland 6

A/N: Hey guys, many, many thanks for the reviews/favorites, it's all very much appreciated. I've got to apologize for the lack of updating since September of last year. My Word 2007 stopped working and I wasn't able to renew anything 'til just recently. I will try to update more frequently than I had been, though, especially since I've gotten a few more ideas formed.

Again, thanks for reading and thanks for liking this enough to keep coming back. Any requests, comments, suggestions are always welcome.

000

Taggart ducked his head over the edge of the building; bloody vomit spilling forth from his open mouth. The acid spewed from his mouth and nostrils, burning.

His ragged retching must've waked his companion; Liam stepped up behind the bent Hunter and waited until there was an interval in the vomiting before speaking. "Eat somethin' bad, eh?"

"C-can it, dude," another lurch and more puke splashed to the sidewalk below.

Liam smirked absently and brought a hand to a side pocket, reaching for cigarettes that were no longer there. He cursed inwardly, thinking he'd have to scavenge a few shops, later.

"Can you wrap this up soon? I kinda wanna get moving." His index fingers spun around each other in a rolling motion trying to emphasize whatever point he meant to make.

Taggart snapped his head around to glare behind him at the smirking Smoker. Dirty spittle flew from his lips as he barked, "Fuck you, man, this fuckin' sucks! I dunno what's up with - *hulp* - me, but just gimme a minute."

The taller infected rolled his milky eyes and shrugged loosely, stepping away from the crouched figure. He walked back into what was left of the shell of a room, the retching echoing off the damaged walls like it was a cave.

He twitched his long fingers, the joints crackling loudly with the movement, as he stepped through a doorway on the opposite wall. He came out into a trashed hallway, sniffing the air with grunted snorts. His senses perked some; there was possible prey nearby, but it wasn't anywhere in this particular building. The scent reeked strongly of tangy, coppery blood and his mouth could've watered. He wondered if he should go and fetch said prey for their breakfast, but would Taggart be okay on his own?

A rumbling growl from his hollowed stomach answered that for him.

He made his way into the room across from theirs, and found it to be an office with a broken window. Choosing it as his exit, he hoisted himself onto the sill and slipped outside.

000

The smoker sniffed the air again after his blood-encrusted soles made contact with the alleyway floor. He could still smell that same prey, though it was fairly clearer now, not too far from where he now stood. Following the scent like a hunting dog, he crept out of the alleyway and out into the paper-strewn street. There were a few common infected staggering around but nothing human lay in sight.

"_Must be hiding_…" He sniffed the air again and carried on with his tracking. The scent strengthened the closer he got to pawn shop a few buildings down the street. He hurried his steps, shoving an infected or two out of his way.

He made his way to the front and wrenched the door open, nearly taking the heavy plank of wood off its remaining hinges. Broken glass and scattered items crunched beneath his heavy steps as he stalked through the islands of shelves, looking for any hiders. An intake of breath brought him towards the girls' bathroom located at the back of the looted shop. Carefully pushing the door open a crack, he inhaled again and the scent he'd been following was now almost overwhelming.

"_Bingo_."

He shoved passed the door and trudged into the cramped bathroom, his sharpened teeth gnashing behind his cracked lips. It was silent in the tiny room minus the echoing drip of a leaky faucet. Creeping near the stalls his wandering eyes took glances through the cracks in between the doorways until he spotted her in the very last one.

His pink, pustule-covered tongue slithered from his jaw and slid under the door to reach the lock, the girl's frightened, startled gasp not escaping his ears. With a single flick and tap of the tip of his tongue, the entrance was unlocked and opening. His appendage gathered back into his mouth and he pushed the door out of the way.

A teenaged girl sat cowering between a stall wall and the toilet, her body practically convulsing in nervous shivers. Her brown, make-up smeared eyes widened painfully and her mouth hung open like she wanted to scream. The slim fingers clutched tightly at the porcelain seat, going whiter by the second as she continued to stare at the former man in front of her.

Liam gave the girl a once-over and saw from an unfortunate stain that the source of the scent was coming from a particular area between her legs. He could've laughed at that, finding her body's poor timing funny, but instead he figured he'd save her the embarrassment in her final moments. Taking one looming step closer to her, he raised a tumor-speckled hand, and, just as she was about to cry out, swung the limb back down, raking her throat with his claws.

The dying girl clutched at her hemorrhaging throat in a panic, her bare feet kicking and sliding against the filthy floor. After a few moments of thrashing, her small body gave its final twitches before sagging heavily against the tiled wall.

The smoker reached down and took hold of the body, hoisting it up onto a shoulder. He headed out of the bathroom and wondered to himself why none of the common infected outside had investigated the same scent he had. Chalking it up to their senses not being as good as his, he sauntered back to the building where he and Taggart had stayed.

The infected he'd been thinking about must've either read his mind or finally smelled the blood because as soon as he stepped out into the street they'd hurried over to him. Their hands flew up at him trying to tear at the lifeless sack on his shoulder, hungry moans echoing around the surrounding buildings. He snarled at them with a barked warning, even swiping at a stubborn few until they finally backed off.

He eyed the walking viruses a second before continuing on to his building. With the body still on his shoulder, he hurriedly clambered up one side of the structure towards the open wall of their room. He slipped off the wall and landed with a slight thud onto the scratched floorboards. Giving a brief scan of the open room he found Taggart huddled in one of the back corners, on his knees and clutching his stomach, his forehead pressed to the boards.

Liam walked over to his comrade and carelessly dropped the body beside him onto the floor. He crouched and tapped at the other's shoulder. "Food's here," he grunted.

The hunter gave a phlegm-y groan and attempted to curl into himself more.

Liam shifted and sat, propping his bony elbows on his knees. "Still puke-y?"

The hunter gave an awkward nod and responded in a muffled voice, "Ya think? I thought we were zombies – zombies aren't supposed to feel anything!" The last part was almost whined.

Liam gave a bored shrug, "Guess the movies lied, huh? Well, you can join me for breakfast whenever you feel up to it, but I can't say I'm gonna leave you the best parts." He turned slightly to face the body and began to wrench at the right arm, working on tearing it off.

Taggart finally moved his head off the floor and looked up at the body. His blond brows furrowed and he asked, "Where'd you find that?" His head bobbed some with his jaw moving against the boards.

"Pawn shop; she stunk of girly-blood, found her hiding in a bathroom stall." With a violent yank, the socket gave an audible 'pop' and the tissue began to tear more easily. After a few more good pulls, the detached limb now lay in his lap and he began to rip into it with his teeth.

Taggart inched his way towards to cold body, his body still weirdly folded, and sniffed at the blood-soaked neckline. He moved closer until he was able to sink his teeth into some muscle on the shoulder.

"It'll be easier to eat if you sit your ass up and use your hands, you know," Liam mumbled around a hunk of meat, juices dribbling around his lips.

Taggart growled in response but shifted himself into a seated position anyway. He tore a healthy chunk of skin from the body's remaining arm and chewed, his hunger restoring itself after that nasty puke fest.

The two ate in a comfortable silence, the only sounds other than outside ambience being mouths smacking and meat tearing wetly. Both infected felt a little better after what they deemed a busy morning.

000

End Chapter 6.

A/N: Not much going on in this chapter, I know, I'm just trying to get back into the swing of things after a couple months' absence. Like always, thanks for reading, and let me know what you think.


	7. Seven

**Municipal Wasteland 7**

000

Taggart trotted along beside Liam's legs like a bad parody of a faithful dog. The two had been wandering the streets for the last two hours, shoving passed some commons and avoiding fellow specials. They hadn't run into any survivors since Liam's encounter that morning, but from the near-constant thundering of gunfire, they got the feeling it was probably for the best.

During their walk, the two had seen a trail of dead infected, bodies riddled with bullet holes and lacerations. Some hadn't even been whole; there were a lot of ashy-smears across the pavement and bits of scattered shrapnel. Shit, the humans were carrying bombs, too? Not to mention all the charred corpses they'd seen…

Taggart didn't want to think of ending up like that, and gnarled and rotting in a ditch. He may have been a hunger-driven zombie, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be smart about it. He wondered if Liam had thought about any of this during their stroll through the gauntlet of bodies – walking or otherwise.

"Hey kid, that corpse looks like you," Liam finally spoke, jabbing a long finger in the direction of a body, slowing some like he wanted to get a better look.

Taggart opened his mouth to tell the other to fuck off, but then he saw what Liam had meant. This particular corpse lay with its limbs tossed around it haphazardly, almost like it was doing a sort of comical backstroke in its own massive puddle of blood. That wasn't it, though; the legs sticking out from the ends of the body's shorts were thick and coiled with muscle and readied tendons. Its hands, ending in predator-claws, were calloused and roughed up on the palm sides. The eyes were hidden beneath the dark shadow of a shredded hood, but its bloodied mouth shows two rows of shark-like teeth.

The hunter stared at the other, sniffing it some and pawing at it. "Shit, dude," he muttered. He looked up at Liam. The smoker's face was unreadable. "I didn't think there'd be like a… like a _species_ sort of thing going on."

Liam just shrugged and scratched at his stomach. He stepped over the hunter-corpse and started walking again.

"Hey," Taggart took one last look at the body before bounding along behind his lover, "You think there's some more infected that are like you? All tumor-skinned and reeking of rot and cigarettes?"

A barely-there grin crept onto the clearer side of Liam's face, "With any luck, there are." At the questioning look on the small one's face, he continued, "I don't wanna be the only ugly motherfucker here."

Taggart snorted a laugh and shook his head.

000

If you asked him, Taggart would swear this was at least the twentieth convenience store they'd come across since starting their walk, and at least the twentieth they'd broken into looking for cigarettes.

"What makes you think those stupid things're even gonna be in there? All the other places were looted," the hunter rolled his eyes as Liam stepped through the former window, but followed behind him anyway.

"Billionth time's the charm, right?" Liam grumbled, slipping around a few shelves and heading to a counter in the back. While he went in that direction, Taggart stopped in the candy aisle to see what treats were left. He wouldn't enjoy them like he used to if he did bother to eat them, but he couldn't help wanting to see what was there.

He was rifling through a box of his favorite grape-flavored gum when a sudden laugh startled him. He perked his ears and dropped the box, trotting over to where still chuckling-coughing Liam slipped over the counter. Behind said counter was surprisingly loaded down in a variety of cigarettes.

Taggart popped up behind the front side of the counter, his hands and chin resting atop the smooth surface. "What the hell, how'd you get so lucky?"

Liam grabbed some lighters and about five or six packs of his chosen brand and then stuffed some into his pockets. He put the last few items in front of Taggart, "Dunno. Put these in your pocket for me." He side-stepped the counter and patted the hunter on the shoulder, going for the window he'd entered from.

The hooded one gave another roll of his eyes, but he did shove the packs and lighters into his own free pockets. He pushed himself away from the counter and hurried after the retreating heels of his companion.

"I can't believe we spent that long on a goddamn search-and-rescue mission for cigarettes," Taggart mumbled.

"Your point?"

"My _point_ is _what's_ the point? You can't even breathe normally, anyway!"

The smoker kicked lightly at the hunter's side and said, "Nothing wrong with me liking the _idea_ of cigarettes."

"What, trying to get some of that old normalcy back?" the little one snorted.

Liam didn't falter, stuffing a cancer stick in between his teeth, "Yeh, actually. Now, light this one up for me."

Taggart stumbled at the first part of the answer but regained himself quickly. He reached into a pocket and fished out a blue lighter, crawling up the front of Liam 'til he was standing. He put the flame to the tip of the cigarette and watched a plume of gray smoke slither out of his lover's chapped mouth.

Fuck. That was actually pretty hot…

"Rude to stare, buddy," Liam almost purposely purred around his cigarette, catching the glint in his counterpart's milky eyes.

"Don't get me started, dude," Taggart growled, eyes still on that mouth. He pushed the lighter back into a pocket and backed off the taller male, trying to ignore the virulent blood heading to his groin.

Liam only smirked, falling in step along side his flustered friend. They were silent as they rounded a corner at the end of the block.

The two nearly leapt three feet in the air as gunfire sounded and a bullet ricocheted at their feet, scattering chips of busted pavement at them. They snapped their heads up and saw three survivors taking aim and firing in their direction. A stray bullet tore into the muscle of Liam's shoulder and he bellowed at the pain.

"Fuckin' sonuva -!" Liam clutched at his oozing arm shoulder and snapped his jaws open to unravel his tongue. He stopped when he felt himself being roughly hauled back behind the corner. He looked up and saw Taggart already scaling the side of the building, heading for the high rooftop.

His climb up was clumsy and awkward with his newly injured shoulder, but he made haste as bullets smacked into the bricks around him. He felt one graze at the tip of his ear and almost laughed at that small bit of luck. When he reached for the edge of the roof, Taggart snatched at his grasping arm and hauled him up over it into his lap.

Scattered ammunition still peppered the cement and brick for a few more moments before it ceased. They could hear the survivors still talking amongst themselves and their echoing footsteps as they took off down the street, firing occasionally at some common that had come to inspect the ruckus.

Liam had forgotten about the pain in his arm until Taggart had accidently gripped too tightly onto him. He snarled and snapped at the other man and felt the hold instantly release. "Easy, man, sorry," Taggart held his hands up in submission, his blond brows knit together.

"It's fine," Liam hissed as he moved out of the hunter's lap. He clumsily unbuttoned his shirt enough to peel part of the garment off his injured shoulder. The blackish-blood was already clotting and pus was beginning to line the laceration, feeling some relief that the bullet had only done that much rather than imbed itself into him.

"There anything we can do for it?" Taggart had backed up from him some, obviously a little uncomfortable from that slight outburst.

"No. Just let it heal up like it's doing now," he pulled the shirt back up over the shoulder and began buttoning it again. "This thing kinda did," he nodded at the opposite shoulder where the bite mark that had infected him sat in a black, rotten ring.

Taggart crept just a little closer and sat down, eyeing the bloodied, torn area warily. "So… if we're zombies, how come we're feeling all this pain and shit? Ain't we supposed to be, like, numb?"

"Did you ever think that maybe we _aren't_ zombies? Maybe we're just virus-fucked super-humans or mutants?" Liam asked with a quirked brow. He sighed when Taggart's expression molded into a confused one. "Maybe those little guys down there, the… retarded ones, or whatever they are, are the zombie ones while we're somehow above that? Whatever the hell it all is, I'd just like to think we're all infected."

Taggart shook his head and lie down, his form dog-like, "Never seen anything like this in the movies…" He said it more to himself than to Liam. The other man playfully cuffed at him, saying, "You need to get all that Hollywood bullshit out of your head, kid."

"Yeh, whatever," the smaller one smiled some as he set his upper half into Liam's lap. He nuzzled into the other man's thigh, gaining an annoyed grunt in response, before shifting to lie on his back. The two looked at each other for a long moment, thinking. They could still hear the gunfire of their attackers, though it was significantly quieter, farther away.

After a moment, Taggart spoke up, "Can we find somewhere to live? Doesn't have to be anything special, I just don't like being left out in the open." He batted lightly at one of the tumors hanging off left side of the smoker's face.

Liam waved the hand away and considered the request for a moment before nodding. "If your apartment's still intact we can stay there."

The smaller male groaned an exaggerated whine.

"'The fuck do you care? I've seen you jump, you can get there in like five minutes." He waved a clawed hand at somewhere off to his left.

"You can't hop around, you loser, how're you gonna get there?"

"My legs aren't broken, dumbass, I can still run."

Taggart shrugged lamely. "Still, I don't really wanna go back to, well, _there_." At Liam's interrogating look, he elaborated, "It'd just feel weird there, like I know it's gonna just be constantly reminding me of my old life."

Liam rolled his eyes and pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Fine. We'll just go to my old place, then." He stood up suddenly and let the hunter fall smack onto his back, the blond head bouncing off the rooftop. "C'mon."

Taggart got up and stood beside him, rubbing the back of his head, "Ow, dick. Where is it?" He was answered with the taller man bounding off onto another rooftop and breaking into a run. Not wanting to get left behind, he huddled into a crouch and sprung, hopping after him.

000

Liam's apartment building was closer to his own than he would have expected. As a human, he would've had to walk only four or five blocks just to get there. He would've made frequent, probably pestering, visits to the other man had he known where he'd lived.

The two infected stepped into the cold apartment and closed the door behind them. Taggart looked around and furrowed his brows, frowning. There was almost nothing in this apartment, let alone a sign of personality. There was a single couch with a coffee table and small TV set across from it in the living room, maybe even a few scattered coffee cups and some stacks of folders crammed with paperwork. The off-white walls were void of any pictures or decorations and there wasn't a knick-knack in sight.

"Is this an office or did you actually live here once?" His voice gave off a slight echo, almost as if in emphasis.

Liam moved over to the tattered, old couch and sat down, the skeleton of the seat creaking in protest. He pulled a cigarette and placed it into his mouth, mumbling, "I did most of my living outside of this place. It was just somewhere to live."

Taggart watched him dig for a lighter and went to sit beside him. He looked around at the walls again, still frowning, "No pictures of your family or anything like that?" Even Taggart kept a framed photo of his parents on his table…

"Not really fond of 'em and never felt the need to remember them anymore than I already did," he murmured around the now-lit cigarette. He exhaled a foggy breath and slid a little down the couch, lanky body stretching out some.

Taggart leaned over a little to rest his head on the older infected's left shoulder, feeling him stiffen at the contact. He was careful not to get too affectionate as Liam wasn't really one for being lovey-dovey, and was wary about his next words, "So… did you guys not get along, or something?"

The smoker took another hit of the tobacco and shrugged, bobbing Taggart's head with the movement. "You could say that," there was bitterness to his tone.

"Is that why you're such a dick?" the words slipped out before he could properly register them and he cringed, waiting for a strike. Nothing happened and his confusion furthered when Liam started chuckling, a dry, raspy sound.

"Probably," He said. He went into a coughing fit for a few second before putting the almost-spent cigarette back to his lips. Taggart sighed and chanced pressing his body closer against the other's. When he wasn't pushed away, he closed his sore eyes, not really wanting to look at the empty walls anymore.

000

End Chapter 7.


	8. Eight

**Municipal Wasteland 8**

**A/N: Hey, thanks for all the faves and notices, but… **_**reviews**_** are nice, too, and just as appreciated, if not more-so. Again, thanks.**

000

When Liam stepped through the door of his apartment, fresh meat in hand, the first thing he expected to see was definitely not what he was looking at now. The window in the living room was thrown open, some shards of broken glass strewn into the carpet beneath it. Bloody foot and hand prints left rusty-colored stains in various places, most leading to the tipped-over coffee table and scattered paperwork. What took the cake, though, was the sight of some female infected nuzzling into a very flustered-looking Taggart.

"Liam, get her off me!" He yelped and tried to shove off the girl-hunter's wandering claws.

The girl purred low in her throat and pushed her body closer into his, still nuzzling and groping. She was behaving like a bitch in heat, which was more than likely what she was. "My mate…" she growled happily.

Liam slammed the door shut with a kick and dropped the sagging body to the floor. He trudged over to the offender and hauled her up with ease – until she started swiping and hissing at him like an angry cat. He moved his face out of the way and swung his arms, throwing the girl at the wall.

During this short moment, Taggart had hauled ass to the back of the hall where he sat crouched and watching. His body was taut and his throat rumbled with warning.

The girl-hunter shook her head, collecting herself from the throw, and sprung at Liam, knocking the man to the couch. "Mine, he's mine!" She shrieked as she swung her arms, claws attempting to tear at any part of him.

Liam snarled and used one hand press against her chest to hold her back while the other made contact with her scowling face. There was a resounding smack in the room and her body spilled backwards, falling to the carpeted floor. Before she could right herself, Liam got off the couch and sat on her stomach.

The bitch hissed and screamed, still saying, "Mine, mine!" as she clawed at the air trying to reach the smoker. She got a few swiped on him, shredding grayed skin and stained clothes, but her arms were constantly being blocked by all the punching Liam was doing.

Taggart crawled out of the shadows in the hallway and over to where his lover was struggling with his female counterpart. The girl was screaming for her assumed "mate" to help her as she thrashed.

The male hunter watched in slight fascination; he'd never seen Liam behave so violently outside of his outbursts. He was snarling viciously, his face pulled into an expression of territorial rage. His heavy arms swung with each hard-hitting punch, and despite the pain he was no doubt feeling from his still-healing bullet wound, he never halted.

The girl gave a few last, stunted cries as her head began to cave in under the constant impacts. Her once swift-moving arms and bucking body began to slow until all parts slumped heavily to the floor. Deep red blood oozed into the carpet and shone against the skin of Liam's torn knuckles. Spatter was everywhere. It looked like a scene from some macabre video game or cheap horror movie.

Liam flew into a coughing fit, his harsh hacking the only sound. When he was able to settle down, he slowly stood up off the messy corpse on crackling joints. His fists clenched and unclenched as he scowled down at what used to be a girl.

Taggart sat silently a few feet away from the two. He watched as Liam bent to take hold of her stained shirt. The taller man wrenched to body up off the floor and dragged it to the open window. With an almost casual motion, he lifted it a little more and let it drop to the sidewalk below. A splashing smack rang through the streets and the curious grunts of a few nearby infected followed shortly as the stumbled to investigate.

"What happened?" He snapped, his broad back facing the huddled man.

"I had the window open; it was too quiet in here, I like the ambience. She musta been on the street and seen me open it or something, because she crawled in here and jumped on me." His voice was husky and low. Everything he'd witnessed just now had brought on arousal.

The smoker stared out the window for a second more, mumbling what sounded like 'idiot', before he turned around and went for the blood-speckled couch. He dropped heavily onto it and eyed the hunter seated on the floor. Whatever terror previously seized the younger male was now gone and replaced by an air of interest.

"What." He spat.

The hunter shifted and crawled up into his lover's lap. His legs wrapped around either thigh and he pressed his waist against Liam's stomach. The erection he had was now more than obvious.

"Didn't know violence against what-used-to-be-women got you off," He grunted with a snarky expression. One of his hands moved in between the two men to his crotch, where he began to lazily rub at himself. He ignored the hunter's erection that was pressing at the back of his hand.

Taggart thrust against that hand and buried his face in the clearer side of Liam's neck, mindful of the aching shoulder. He knew Liam hated affection like that, but he stayed where he was. His voice was low and muffled as he said, "Wish you'd show ownership like that more often."

"Just wanted the cunt dead and out of my home," was the response.

Taggart leaned back enough to see the small, deep scrapes decorating sections of gray-green skin. He leaned in again and lapped up the thick blood from some of the small lacerations on his man's face.

Liam took his free hand and gave a rough shove to Taggart's chest. "Knock it off, you're starting to act like that girl."

Taggart's milky eyes dropped into glaring slits and he bared his teeth, a deep growl rumbling from his throat. The move clearly had no real harm intended, but he was a little miffed by the words. "Fuck you," he snapped.

"_You_ can sit on _my_ dick if you like, but I won't be doing the same for you," that ingratiating smirk spread itself across his face again. Taggart playfully punched him in the chest, causing him to cough.

"Great, now it reeks of cigarettes AND rot in here," he complained, waving the offending breath out of his face.

"Like it didn't before," Liam scoffed, roughly pulling Taggart by the back of his neck to have their bloodied, chapped lips meet. The little one obliged, opening his foul mouth. Their filth-coated teeth clacked together and their phlegm-y spit mingled as their jaws worked.

Clawed, tumor-speckled hands drug themselves up and down the hunter's arched back, the smaller infected almost purring. Hips ground against the other, the heated pace bringing wanted friction, and the echoes of lustful growls filled the near-empty apartment.

000

Liam stalked down the cracked sidewalk in search of prey. It'd been over an hour since he'd left the apartment and nothing human, at least not completely human, had shown up. He hadn't even caught a whiff of their scent on any of these blocks, and his boredom was beginning to weigh heavily on his mind. He huffed slightly, fishing a cigarette from the near-empty pack in his pocket. He lit it up an inhaled, though not with out a brief coughing fit, and figured he'd just turn back around. He went for the end of the sidewalk and rounded a street sign.

His head was bowed and the shrinking cigarette bobbed up and down in his loosely-clamped lips. The grimy teeth chewed at the filter, blackish drool dribbling out and down his chin. His chapped lips moved some, slightly mouthing out his thoughts around the dwindling cancer stick. He thought about his and Taggart's survival, about avoiding other Infected, particularly ones that behaved like that girl-hunter. Were there other smokers out there like him, but more mate-minded…?

His shoes trudged, sometimes dragged, heavily, the movements quickened with his hurried gait. Too goddamn much to think about, but he was at least grateful for having retained his ability to even do any of said thinking.

Despite the low growls and grunted snorts, Liam's distracted staring at passing pavement cracks kept him from avoiding the massive, muscled body directly in his path. One second later, his face collided with what felt like a brick wall, his cigarette crushing up against his clenched teeth and a few of the smoke pustules on his left side bursting into acrid green clouds.

He stumbled backwards, ready to rip into whatever it was that rudely halted him so, but upon looking up he saw a towering hunk of meat glaring right back at him. The bid Infected's body shook violently, the grunts and growls grounding out into increasingly louder roars.

Milky eyes wide, the significantly smaller man clumsily backed the hell up down the sidewalk, his clawed hands flailing to take hold of the nearby building wall. The crushed cig dropped from his mouth as his jaw worked uselessly.

He watched the beast turn and stand to his full height. The thick, trunk-like arms rose in anger, like a gorilla, and its gaping maw widened with a bellow, the loose tongue waggling with the action. In a red flash, its meaty fists slammed back down to the ground, emitting what felt like a small earthquake.

Liam's already shaking legs quivered more-so with the impact and it finally struck his mind that maybe he should start running. He whirled around, nearly tripping, and sped off down the street. He felt more than heard the massive monster-man begin to charge after him, rage-filled cries echoing the now-deserted block.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, AND FUCK-!" Liam sputtered as his long legs carried him, though not nearly fast enough as he wanted them to. He rounded the corner, sliding at an angle, and tore off in the downtown direction. The tank-sized creature still thundered after him, tossing any unfortunate nearby Common away as if they were little ragdolls. Liam didn't seem them get thrown, but he could hear their cut-off moans right before he heard the impact of splattering meat against the side of surrounding buildings.

"Oh, thank Jesus-fuckin'-Christ!" Liam cried as a towering skyscraper reared into view. Entering downtown, he should now be able to find some decent source of hiding place. Unless this thing was King Kong-incarnate, he should be able to find some sort of height advantage with a climb.

He came up on the building, and when he was a yard or two away, he leapt off the street and grabbed hold of the side of the building. His flailing limbs and snagging claws hauled him up the windowed wall. He didn't look back to see if the tank was climbing with him, but he could feel the wall almost shake as the thing attempted to scale along after him. He hurried his pace, frantically. He chanced a glance back over his shoulder and almost sighed in relief when the tank grew increasingly frustrated at not being able to grab a proper hold.

Liam watched the tank heavily slide back down onto the pavement, backing up from the building. "Fuckin' SHIT," he yelped when the beast bent down and ripped a huge chunk of concrete from the street with ease. His attacker yanked the asphalt up over his head and threw it.

The smoker almost lost his hold when the piece impacted a few yards to his right, destroying the windows and metal in glittering blizzard of both. All he did was bump into it, how in the hell did that warrant a chase and target practice? The stiff muscles in his legs and arms were growing sore and almost seemed impossible to move, but he continued to carry himself anyway, almost high enough to where the concrete chunks wouldn't hit him.

"Almost there," he gasped as another explosion of wall went off just beneath him. Some of the glass shards and shrapnel imbedded into his already straining legs and he snarled at the small, stabbing pains.

Finally, after what seemed like an agonizing ascent up a mountain, he made it to a perch just high enough to provide him safety. More explosions of glass sounded off, and the building continued to quake, but he was relatively safe from any more tank-related harm. At least he hoped so.

His exhausted body dropped heavily to the "floor" of the perch and he sagged in relief. A harsh hacking fit wracked through his virulent body and it was a few minutes before he could collect himself. He could still hear the echoing ranting of the tank far below him, and a small, pained laugh escaped his ash-flecked lips.

He bent, at the protest of his sore torso, to reach at the varying shards protruding from his legs. With pained gasps and grunts, he began to pluck and pry out each shard he could grab hold of. The stained, grime-coated shards were tossed over the side of the perch, and with any luck, they'd rain down on the still-hissy-fitting tank.

"Stupid fuck," he hissed as he fished out another bit of shrapnel, taking a tiny bit of muscle with it. He looked it over with squinted eyes and tossed it over to follow the others, "Christ."

When the last shard was snagged and thrown aside, he leaned back against the window-wall and looked up at the dark, gray sky. His brows furrowed in hard thought and his frown deepened. If he and Taggart weren't safe from even their own "species", then how in the fuck were they gonna make it through everything else?

000

The little hunter sat disgruntled on the broken couch of their now-shared apartment. Sinking further into the ratty thing, a hot gust of rotten breath expelled from his chest, and he glared at the blank TV screen.

Where the hell was Liam?

Taggart figured it'd been nearing on at least four hours now since his lover left to go find food, and he was starting to get a little unnerved – though, he wouldn't admit any of his worry when the guy got back. …Whenever that'd be.

He stood up abruptly, practically throwing his body of the old couch. He shrugged his shoulders and bounced on the balls of his feet trying to get some of the needle-feeling out. He gave a quick stretch and clambered out the broken window. His lithe body scrabbled down the apartment wall and he hopped down onto the sidewalk.

He lifted his head and sniffed the rank air, catching scent of blood, other Infected, and fires, but not his Liam. His brow furrowed but he wasn't deterred, and he trotted off down the street to the end of the block.

000

_This was just gonna be a two or three-page filler chapter, but I decided to extend it some when I managed to scrape together a few more ideas. Thanks for reading, and please, review._

000

End Chapter 8.


	9. Nine

**Municipal Wasteland 9**

000

Taggart padded down the street and started into the next block. He'd caught scent of Liam a block or so back and he'd been following its direction since. The scent he'd found was of smoke, rot, and something distinctly Liam. That, and the saliva-coated cigarette butt he'd found had certainly helped.

'_Damn, musta been absolutely nothin' to eat, seein' as he went such a long-ass way…_' he continued to sniff the air in brief little snorts, still keeping on the trail. His gloved paws smacked down on the cracked, weed-speckled pavement of the sidewalk and drool dribbled from his slightly-gaped mouth. He looked like a man pretending to be a dog.

Further down the walk, he noticed he was getting closer and closer to downtown and his brow rose a little. "Are there still some humans hiding out in there?" he wondered aloud, biting at his lip, and then shrugged. "I guess if Liam thinks so, I oughta trust him on that."

Taggart sniffed the stale air again and noted that the smell was stronger the closer he got to the edge of the downtown area. He quickened his pace, a little hopefulness boosting his step.

When he finally reached the beginning of the taller, nicer building, he stopped himself, almost tumbling face-first into a ragged, empty patch of asphalt. Fingers tapping at the edge of the pit, he looked around and saw more chunks dug out of the road. They looked like weird, giant potholes, sewage piping even sticking out of some of them and jutting up into the open air. The street surrounding them shimmered with broken glass and bits of metal.

He paused for a minute, confused, and then moved to gather in the scent again. He raised his head and started to inhale but that was when he spotted massive holes dotting the side of the huge skyscraper he faced.

'_What the hell did that, the military?_' he thought, his body stiffening.

This place reeked of Liam, but the other man was nowhere in sight. His milky eyes widened as a thought dawned on him; maybe they were firing at Liam…?

Taggart leapt over the pit before him and bounded over to the building, his nostrils flaring as his nose worked. There were tiny speckles of coagulated blood dotting the pavement, though they were almost smothered in a coating of glass and building shards. Mouth tightening into a thin line, he backed up some before launching himself at a fairly high section on the building. He clambered onto a windowsill and began to himself up the wall.

His scurrying little body moved around the gaping holes in the wall that exposed the offices and apartments to the rest of the city. When he passed by them, he'd take a quick glance in to look for Liam before moving on.

The higher he climbed the stronger the scent got and that encouraged him a little. He quickened his climbing pace and caught sight of a concrete, decorative ledge nearing the top of the building. He gave a quick pant and flexed his muscles, getting closer to the ledge. He reached a hand up to grab hold of its edge.

Liam saw the grimy hand reaching up over the edge of his perch, and before he could properly register the blond head following after it, he grabbed hold of the other Infected's shirt and wrenched it up and over. He threw the threat at the wall and whoever it was shattered through the glass window, a frightened yelp sounding.

He leapt over to the newly-open sill and growled threateningly, his body stiffening into a defensive stance. The glass-sprinkled body on the floor rolled and writhed, emitting a pained screeching sound. Its hands clutched at a scrape on the back of its head that was starting to ooze thick, dark blood.

"Fuckin' shit, man, what the fuck, jeez-!" obscenities spilled out of the little body, still thrashing where it lie.

Liam tilted his head and his eyes widened; recognition finally kicked in and he realized he'd just thrown his only friend through a window.

"Shit!" he hopped off the ledge and crouching down at Taggart's side. He hesitantly grabbed at the shoulder nearest him and attempted to hold him still.

The hunter opened his bleary eyes and an odd look Liam couldn't quite read flashed across his face. It looked a little like relief, though there was something like fear in there, too. He ignored the look and gave a slight punch to the other's arm, scowling.

"Goddamnit, Taggart, what the hell are you doing here?" he snapped.

"I was looking for you!" He yelped, his sore arm moving out of the way. He cowered a little into himself, not wanting to get hit again.

"I told you to stay in the fucking apartment, you idiot!"

"You were gone for such a fuckin' long-ass time, I-. Well, ya just took too long!" he sputtered, eyes averting the smoker's gaze. His knees drew up closer to his chest and his bottom lip gave the slightest of quivers. He hated how much Liam managed to affect him.

The smoker saw this and eased off, sitting back on his haunches at rubbing at his face with his hands. He sighed heavily into his palms splitting the fingers apart to look at the still-cowering hunter. "It's… fine. It's fine." He stood up and stepped over the smaller body, heading over to the long meeting table in the middle of the office room.

"Christ."

Taggart unfurled himself a little and looked up at his lover. The man seemed to ooze tension. He carefully got up onto his palms and feet and crawled backwards some towards the sill. He propped his elbows on his bent knees and fiddled with his fingers.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. He never liked getting trouble, and hated it even more-so now that he was alone in his new life with only Liam.

Liam's hand slid off his face and dropped to his side, the tense shoulders sagging some. His eyes met Taggart's and he sighed again. "Nah, I'm… sorry," he said, "And just forget about it, it's done."

Both sets of eyes went downcast and the two Infected were quiet for a long, awkward moment. Liam was the first to speak.

"Did you…run into anything out there?" He asked slowly, a hand waving around briefly.

"Nothing but the usual Common guys, and some puke-y fat-ass. Why?"

Liam gave a shrug, starting to ramble, "There was some huge guy out there about an hour or so ago. I'd literally bumped into him a few blocks down and he'd 'roided the fuck out. Sonuvabitch went after me like a goddamn bull, and when I was climbing the building to get away, he ripped out chunks of the street and threw 'em at me."

"Oh." That explained the big potholes. "Did you – are you okay?" He took a careful step forward, the stinging in the back of his head ignored.

"Got some little bits of building stuck in my legs from one of the impacts, but I think I got 'em all pulled out." He looked up, a wry smirk on his mouth, "Why, you hopin' I got worse?"

The hunter snorted, ambling over to his lover, lifting himself on the table. "No, stupid. In fact, I'd prefer you hadn't gotten any of them shards in you."

They were quiet again for another moment. Liam's hands dug into his pockets. The kid sidled up next to his rigid form and propped his head on the nearest shoulder. "So," he started, "How big was this asshole that he was able to rip _concrete_ apart?"

Liam snorted, shaking his head some, "Fucking huge. He had _at least_ three feet on me, maybe even four. Built like a fuckin' tank; muscles everywhere and just… giant. The ground actually shook when he was chasing me." He felt the hunter tense up behind him for a second.

"I don't think I wanna run into one of those guys any time soon," murmured, drawing his body up closer to his lover.

"No. No, you really don't." He reached a hand back and scratched behind Taggart's ear, mindful of the nasty bump nearby. The younger man almost purred, nuzzling into the clear side of his head. He let the affection fly knowing how he hurt the kid earlier.

"Yeh, I'm sorry about throwing you like that. Thought you were another one of them assholes or something," he grunted, still scratching.

"I'm over it, man, no big deal. Shoulda probably said something or other, but I didn't expect you to be, like, right there," he shrugged and chanced a quick peck on the mottled cheek beside him.

Liam turned to face the hunter seated on the table. He bent forward and captured the other's mouth with his own, the two sets of jaws beginning to work.

Taggart didn't think he'd ever get used to the smoke-y taste of rot that was Liam's mouth, but he'd put up with it for him. He shifted on his haunches and pressed forward into the sloppy kiss, eyes closing.

This went on for almost three minutes before Taggart backed off, his chapped, quivering lips shiny with spit and his eyes half-lidded. If Liam's dick was hard by then it certainly was now.

"Get on all fours for me," he grunted; his voice was like gravel against his suddenly dry throat. A groan escaped the little one and he happily obliged, shifting so that he was in the requested position. Liam undid both their jeans and set himself to work.

He mounted the hunter, ignoring the obnoxious, biting pains all over his lower legs as his shins rested against the table. He pushed his cock into the hunter and felt the muscles of his lover tighten significantly, his forehead dropping between the two jutting shoulder blades in front of him. "Fuckin' A," he breathed, his muscles tensing at the sudden twang of pleasure.

He gave it a minute so Taggart could get used to the sudden intrusion before he started rocking his hips back and forth. After a few thrusts, he managed to strike that bundle of nerves making his mate cried out.

Taggart hesitantly looked up over his shoulder at Liam, his lower lip caught in his teeth and his face one of growing rapture. The kid probably wasn't aware he looked so goddamn wanton and that look alone set Liam off. He started bucking his hips, hard, driving himself into the younger Infected beneath him.

God, what this boy did to him.

Taggart's shaking arms buckled beneath him and his face smacked to the smooth table-face. He whimpered as the smoker plowed into him, practically dragging him back and forth across the polished wood, his rancid breath fogging it up. "Harder," his voice was barely above a ragged whisper, but the older man seemed to have understood, quickening his pace and adding more force.

"God, Liam, baby, please," Taggart gasped. His glassy eyes watered and a low whine escaped his throat, thick black nails digging into the table beneath him. White, rough lines followed the dragging fingers.

Liam's fingers curled into a fist, burying themselves into the palms and biting at the grayed skin. His hips pounded rapidly into the hunters, a smacking sound and their heaving pants resounding throughout the large, dark room. This was so good, the best they've had yet, and Liam was on the verge of breaking.

A minute later and his balls lifted and his stomach tightened; he could feel his release hitting him like a train. He growled loudly as he came, his body wracking with the waves of pleasure.

Beneath him, Taggart bit his lip again as he felt the putrid seed filling him. His body gave a hard shiver and he whimpered, his own release spilled onto table. The fluid joined the thin, white roads dug into the wood.

Liam collapsed on the other in a heap, then rolled onto his side and pulled the smaller body closer to him. He panted acrid breaths into the boy's collar, feeling him shiver in his arms.

"Christ," the smoker grunted, coughing some. He ignored the slight disappointment at how brief the fuck was, the end results proving its worth. Another bout of silence, filled only by weakening pants and sighs, and then,

"Ya got any glass stuck in you?" He felt a little stupid at not having asked earlier.

"None that I can feel," The hunter rolled his shoulders in emphasis.

"Good." He buried his pustule-peppered face in the nape of Taggart's neck, taking a deep inhale of the scent there. Blood, decay, and something simply Taggart. He liked that.

"What're you doin' back there?" The smaller man asked, a smile creeping up on his lips.

"Smelling you."

"Okay, creeper," he yelped when a hand grabbed at his crotch, playfully, and he wriggled out of the grasp. "You're so weird, man," he laughed, adjusting his body back against Liam's front, practically burrowing into him.

"_You're_ weird."

"_You're_ bipolar or something! What, with your angry yelling one minute and then some cuddlin' the next." One hand flailed around for some sort of emphasis.

"Eh, nothin' I can do about that," Liam said, licking at his teeth, scowling at the coated grime.

"Whatever. Dunno about you, man, but I'm crashin'-the-fuck-out." Taggart adjusted so he could nestle his face into his folded fore-arms. "So goddamn sleepy," he murmured, his voice muffled.

"Can't argue with that," Liam threw one arm out and let it hang over the edge, the other draping across the hunter's torso to pull him closer. He rested his face into Taggart's slightly jutted shoulder blades, his forehead buried in the hood of the filthy jacket.

The city's never-silenced ambience of screams, gunfire, and inhuman bellows filled the room and, like a morbid lullaby, helped the two Infected fall into a heavy sleep.

000

End Chapter 9


	10. Ten

**Municipal Wasteland 10**

000

Liam awoke the next morning – or afternoon, rather – with his body draped flat against the dirtied table and his dick still hanging limp out of the cover of his jeans.

He lifted his head and looked around groggily, eyes adjusting to the intrusion of clouded sunlight. He sat up and grunted, throwing himself into a coughing fit. When his hacks died down, his brows raised as another's choking continued elsewhere.

'Must be Taggart,' he thought, slipping off the table and standing to his full height. He pulled up his jeans and re-did them before heading to the broken window a few feet away. "Tag'," He called. His answer was more hacking and the additional sound of something wet. "Taggart," he called louder, this time a gravelly 'what' responding.

A sneakered foot went out the window and onto the cement ledge, the rest of Liam's lank body following after. He took a moment to deeply inhale the scent of burning and decay, and then he carefully rounded the corner of the ledge to find Taggart hunkered down and spewing any and all stomach contents. His normally grayed fingers were now white-knuckled and clamped tight onto the edge he leaned over.

"J-Jesus Christ, man," Taggart moaned, collapsing gracelessly onto his belly, his vomit-speckled chin still hanging over the edge. His little body shook and he looked exhausted.

"_Still_ getting used to the infection?" Liam asked with a little bite in his tone.

Taggart shook his head, belching some, then said, "Nah, man, this feels like way worse than the last time I was hackin' up."

"Ah, suck it up, ya big baby."

"H-hey, fuck you, man, this shit hurts-!" He threw his head back to the ledge and his mouth gaped as a heavy stream of black vomit poured forth. After a minute, the resounding echo was a loud, wet splash as the bile hit the pavement hard, some speckling an unfortunate witch nearby.

The puke-spotted girl snapped her head up towards the building and gave an angry shriek.

Liam stepped back from the ledge and burst into a fit of coughing chuckles. "Ha-hahaha! Stupid girl! Great aim, babe."

"If-if she didn't want it on her, she shouldn't-a sat where the puddle was…" The little hunter rolled over onto his back, a limp arm hugging his aching belly. "This blows," he grunted.

Liam gave a snort and his face went into a scowl, "Apparently. Check out the wood you got going." He nudged at said 'wood' with the toe of his shoe, earning a whine and slap at his shin.

"Fuck off!"

"Hey, you can't just go showing that off and expect me not to do something about it."

"Dude, just quit it, I don't know what's up with me. I'm not even in the mood, okay?" His yellowed fangs showed through a half-hearted snarl.

"Whatever, brat. I'm fuckin' starving, I'm gonna find us some food." Liam turned so his back was facing the streets and gave a small jump off the ledge. His clawed hands caught the edge and the bottoms of his feet smacked against a window. "You want anything?"

"I might, just -." The hunter's gray face paled noticeably and he rolled over, bile spewing forth again. He was a miserable sight.

"Well, have fun!" Liam slinked down the wall of the building, carefully making his way down to the street. Once it was safe to do so, the lanky smoker let go of a window sill and dropped to the cracked cement beneath him. As he wandered away from the building, the wet smacking of splattering bile reached his ears and he sighed,

000

A deep inhale brought in the rich, delicious scent of warm, human blood. He was like a hungry shark; he'd caught onto the trail, now he just needed to find the pray.

Side-stepping the glare of street lamps and blending in with the shadows of the streets, he'd eventually made his way to a dark, trashed convenience store. Upon closer inspection of the tiny parking lot, Liam caught sight of a dribbled trail of blood leading into the shop.

A distorted, ugly grin cracked his face. He stepped over the door's empty, metal framing and onto the broken glass coating the floor. The shards crunched beneath his sneakers and a muffled wail of fear sounded from behind a door near the back.

He stepped through the trash and boxes strewn all over the floor, maneuvering through the thin aisles. He stood still in front of the wooden barrier keeping his from his next meal for a brief moment.

He inhaled once before shoving his body into the door, rocking it on its hinges, his shoulder denting the old, cracked wood. He proceeded to throw himself at the door until the splinters became chunks, and soon the whole of the barrier caved, dropping to the linoleum floor in clatters. The infected peered in.

Liam gave a choking wheeze and his cloudy eyes found their target. A young man sat huddled in on himself, his quaking body looking for comfort in a dirty corner. The wound that gave him away was a massive gash torn into his arm. No sign of infection on this one, no spoilage. The smoker stepped out of the door frame and stalked over to the cowering man whose face was wrenched into a silent scream.

Liam smacked the weakly-defensive arms out of his way and plunged his clawed fingers into the man's belly. A real scream ripped from his throat and he bellowed in pain as his torso was emptied.

In only a few, excruciating moments, the man was dead and Liam had a full day's meal hefted onto his shoulder. The hungry smoker wandered out of the shop and shoved his way through some scrabbling infected wanting a piece for themselves.

It was a pain in the ass getting back to his temporary home, what, with all the other hungry infected, and the climb back up certainly didn't make things easier.

Finally, a sore, greasy hand grasped hold onto the ledge and he hauled his, plus the dead man's, weight up and over. The pair of bodies dropped down onto the flat surface, Liam hacking from the effort. "Fu~u~uck," he wheezed.

He sat up and shook himself, then grabbed hold of an arm while placing his feet on the torso. With a few good heaves, the loud pop of an emptying socket resounded and gave way to tearing flesh and sinew. The arm gave and detached slapping into Liam's chest. The ugly grin came back as he tore into the messy flesh of the bodiless limb, his cheeks filling with cooling meat as gore spilled down his chin.

Out of the corner of a milky eye, he saw Taggart gingerly crawling over to the kill. The little hunter ripped apart the remainder of the man's t-shirt before listlessly digging into the exposed back.

"Feeling any better, kid?" Liam asked through a mouthful of food.

"Just a little," Taggart mumbled, swallowing. "Body's still hurtin' like a bitch, all the puking made me fuckin' exhausted." He pulled another chunk of tissue into his mouth and chewed.

"Guess you're just having a rough time adjusting or something." He practically unraveled a long flap of skin from the arm and slid it into his gaping maw.

"Eh, probably, though I don't know why you aren't all wrecked, too."

"Not all hum-, er, things're built the same, Tag."

"True. It just sucks, man," He plucked a string of tendon from between some teeth and lapped up some spilled blood.

Something behind Taggart gurgled and then belched loudly.

The two whipped their heads around to see a massive balloon that was the infected's stomach making its unsteady way towards them. "Can- can I have –urp- some?" He asked, his voice wet and wavering.

"Uh, no. Fuck off." Liam spat, then gnawed on a bit of bone protruding from the arm. Taggart just stared at the massive infected; its middle shivered like it was ready to blow. The gut rumbled some, further unsettling him.

"C'mon, m-man, just a leg or something? I'm starv-v-ving!" The boomer stepped closer, his tumor-heavy flesh wobbling and bouncing. Taggart's eyes widened.

"Hey, buddy, what'd I just tell you? You ain't getting shit, so fuck. OFF." He jabbed the arm at the large gut, bony-end first.

"Uh, Liam," Taggart started, his tone warning.

"But I-."

"You seem to misunderstand me," Liam jabbed again.

"Liam-!"

"Fuck. Off. You. Fat. Ass." Each word was emphasized with jab from the bone's point, each gaining more force. At the last word, the gut expanded in a millisecond of a flash before exploding.

Taggart threw himself into a huddled position and Liam stayed stock still as gore blew into them, smaller chunks continuing to rain down as the initial damage wore off.

"WHAT THE FUCK." Liam roared, filthy, meaty spittle flying from his mouth.

Taggart just watched the wobbly, thick lower half slip over the edge of their perch and fall to the ground. His milky eyes were round and wide, and his ears perked at the sudden sound of rushing.

"'The hell's that?" Liam snarled, wiping chunky spatter off the both of them.

The sound grew louder and closer and Taggart leapt to a clear corner of the ledge. He grabbed at Liam, then the remainder of their food, and watched as a small mass of infected spilled from the empty window frame. The flailing, disorganized bodies scrabbled at the bile and gore the boomer had left behind in his death, frantically shoveling it into their open mouths and all over their greasy skins.

"What is… what are they doing?" Taggart whispered, watching. 

"Dunno. Guess they like that nasty shit?"

"Yeh. Lookit 'em swarm!"

"Haven't seen anything like this yet, not to mention the fat ass that caused it. Weird. C'mon, let's move this guy elsewhere and finish." Liam grabbed the limp, cold body and dragged it over to the opposite end of the building. Taggart crept along after him.

The two continued their dinner to the sounds of screaming, fighting infected until they were full. Breaking another window, they tossed the remainder of their meal into the empty office room and followed after it, settling in for the night.

Just as in the previous nights, the sounds of the city let them drift.

000

A/N - Blah, blah, blah, some filler and a few hints to future things, plus the intro of the boomer and the horde. Poor boomer, he just wanted some chow. Anyway, thanks for reading. Please read and REVIEW. Gonna get started on that next chapter for you guys.


	11. Eleven

**Municipal Wasteland 11**

_**Oh Lord, my apologies for the wait – I just noticed I hadn't updated this beast since July o' last year. Well, thanks to those who waited patiently and didn't give up on it. Much appreciated.**_

000

Liam awoke in the middle of the night – or what he figured was the night – to the sounds of Taggart whimpering in pain.

The smoker sat up and carefully shook the younger male's shoulder. Taggart's back was to him, but Liam could see his hands were clutching at his face. "Kiddo, what's wrong?" His answer was a slight sob.

Liam pulled at the hunter's shoulder and rolled him so that he was on his back. He carefully eased the clawed hands off his lovers face and saw black-bloodied streaks running down from his shut eyes. Pus slid out from beneath the clamped lids. Taggart's face was a mix of pain and fear.

"Fuck, m-man, my eyes... they hurt so bad, Liam…" Taggart whimpered as his hands shook hard in the smoker's grip.

Liam frowned. The sockets looked sunken and very dark, the skin quivering every now and again. Thick, muddied tears spilled from them and dribbled down onto the table. The little hunter's teeth were clenched so hard it was a wonder the damn things didn't shatter.

The smoker nearly leapt ten feet in the air when a banshee scream wrenched itself from Taggart's throat, sounding more animal than man. His spine bent, snapping up off the table, his body thrusting and writhing as even thicker tears started spilling. He tried to pull his arms free from Liam's grasp, his fingers bent in ugly claws. "My eyes!" he shrieked. "My fucking eyes!"

Liam panicked, having no idea what the hell was going on or what to do about it. It was getting much harder to restrain the younger infected, and the shrieking was bound to call unwanted attention. He reacted without much thought.

He released his hold on one of the jerking wrists and brought a fist down heavily on the top of Taggart's blond head. The shrieking stopped and all movement ceased from the frantic hunter as his unconscious body went limp on the table.

After a tense moment and some heavy panting subsided, Liam let go of the other wrist and bent down to get a better look. It was too dark to really see anything, so he hefted Taggart's body into his arms and carried him over to the window, setting him down. The smoky city glare and distant moonlight helped just enough.

Bending over his lover's body, he took both pustule-dappled hands and carefully pried open the lids of one eye. Thick, dark fluid gushed out of the loose socket, and the eyeball itself came along with it. The organ slipped out over the ring of bone and tissue and plopped to the floor, the shredded optic nerve trailing behind it.

Liam's mouth gaped, his own eyes, still intact, stared wide at the little organ on the floor. "What…"

He shook himself out of his stupor a moment later and focused on Taggart again. He wondered if the other eye was in the same condition. Judging by the leaking fluid, he figured it was. Gingerly, he pried the other eye open, the same thing happening all over again. This eyeball, however, bounced onto the ledge and nearly went over.

Liam, completely unsure what to do next, rolled the blond over onto his side and watched as the remaining tar splattered onto the ledge. Threads from where the optic nerve detached hung out of the sockets and wavered almost comically in the slight breeze.

The blond was rolled onto his back again and Liam sighed heavily at the sight before him. He couldn't just leave the two gaping sockets out in the open like that. He grabbed at the hem of his dress shirt and tore a substantial piece off, lifting his lover's head and wrapping it around. He covered the sockets and tied the ends of the material together.

It wasn't much, but it'd do for now. The cloth immediately soaked up the remaining wet gore. Liam coughed a sigh and sat next to his lover's unconscious body. He leaned his heavy head back against the wall and closed his eyes, falling back to sleep.

000

Liam greeted the morning with a hack or two and reached to touch the hunter lying next to him. He felt empty space and opened his eyes, looking around. Taggart was in the opposite corner of the room, pacing in little circles, tiny growls escaping his raw throat.

Oh yeh, the eye thing. Well, Shit.

A particularly angry snarl was released from between the little hunter's snaggleteeth as he sharply turned to pace towards the wall that'd previously been behind him. The strip of cloth was no longer tied around Taggart's face; it was discarded off in a corner, torn into tiny little shreds. His eye-less sockets dribbled chunky, soggy gore in his wake. His claws tapped and scraped across the floor with each step, and his throat continually grumbled with mucus-y snarls.

Liam watched this little ritual for a few more minutes before he hauled himself up onto his feet, standing to his full height and stepping over to the hunter. When Taggart passed near him he seized the back of the younger's hoodie and lifted him.

"Aw man, please tell me that's you, Liam," he yelped, startled by the sudden break in his actions, "Certainly smells like you…" He pawed around and felt at the smoker holding him, sniffing some.

"What're you doing, kid?" Liam snapped, a blistered hand still grasping the bloodied jacket.

Taggart sighed in slight relief, and bowed his head, his cautious paws still feeling at the former-man who held him. "I-I can't see, dude… 'M fuckin' blind…"

"No shit, Sherlock, your eyeballs fell right outta your head last night," Liam dropped the boy, ignoring another surprised yelp, and sat himself at the end of the long wooden table. He dug in his pocket for his lighter and a remaining cigarette, then lit the stick up and inhaled deeply, a wet cough following after.

Taggart pawed around at the floor, attempting to find Liam, his head arched as he listened to any and all sounds. "I just… man, I don't fuckin' get it. My eyes just came out?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Aw man, what the fuck. I- Christ, this shit hurts!" He clawed at his empty sockets again, whimpering at what his fingers touched at. He pulled his searching hands away from his gore-speckled face and placed them back on the dirty floor, continuing his pawing. "How am I gonna do anything if I can't fuckin' see, man?"

"Y'got me there, slugger," Another inhale and exhale of smoke, followed by more coughs.

"Ya could be a bit more caring, man, I mean, c'mon," Taggart snapped, grunting when he head-butted a table leg.

"Sorry kid, but I know fuck-all about what to do in this situation. Guess it's just part o' your strain of the Green Flu, I dunno. 'Least you ain't flailin' and screamin' like you were last night." He gave the slighted of shudders at the memory of those screams.

Taggart sighed again, halting, and moved his head to "look" around. "Liam, where are you?"

The smoker rapped his knuckles on the shoulder nearest him, "Right next to you." He grabbed hold of the searching hand near his leg and helped Taggart up onto the table, seating him beside himself.

Taggart slumped against the cold body next to him and gave another rattling sigh and grunt of discomfort. It was relatively quiet for a few moments, minus whatever sounds came from outside the building, before Liam spoke, "So… you seem fairly calm for not having eyeballs anymore."

Taggart gave a loose shrug, "I was pacing for like an hour before you stopped me. S'not like I can do anything about it, anyway. And…"

"Hm?"

"I, uh, I think I may have trampled one of the eyes when I was first stumblin' around."

Liam looked off to his left and down at the floor. Sure enough, what used to be a lovely blue eye was now a smeared jelly across the carpeting. He frowned, tapping the ashes off his cigarette and shook his head. "Yeh, you did."

"…damn."

000

This was literally the fourteenth time Liam had to stop and wait for Taggart after the newly-blinded hunter stumbled around and called for him. His fists clenched, the blackened nails digging into the dry skin painfully, but his irritation was more focused on the nuisance that staggered along behind him. He was getting real sick of this shit real fast. Like hell he was gonna be this little punk's seeing-eye dog. The more the kid called his name the more his nerves frayed, the unsure, weak tone grating on him hard.

"Just fuck off, already!" He snapped, whirling around on the startled hunter.

"What-?"

The smoker stalked over to the crouched hunter and swung a leg up; his foot connecting with the infected's chest and knocking him hard onto his back, a breathless grunt escaping his chest. "Quit bein' such a goddamn baby and try to help yourself out!"

Taggart lay shivering on the cracked sidewalk, his head turning and his clawed hands swiping at the air looking for purchase. "Liam, I- yelp!" That same food kicked at his ribs and hands. He curled into himself, trying to fend off the blows. "I don't understand!" He whimpered.

"YOU. FUCKING. PISS. ME. OFF." Each word was punctuated with another hard kick. "You've been whining at me all fuckin' day, slowing me down and attracting way too much attention. I've had to fuckin' protect your stupid ass since we left the building."

"I didn't do this to myself! Please, Liam, stop! This ain't even a fair fight!" His hands smacked at the air, attempting to defend himself.

The smoker halted his blows and stepped off, "You can fuckin' take care o' yourself, I'm not doin' it." He turned around and continuing on his way down the street. He called, roughly shoving past some gaping common scattered about the road. The zombies groaned and stumbled, but continued to stare.

The whimpering hunter shook where he lay, "Fuck, man, I'm sorry…" Liam had been fairly mean to him the entire time he'd known him, admittedly getting worse the longer he was with him, but this'd been a bit much. What had he done? He choked, sobbing as best his infected state would allow.

It took a few minutes for him to recuperate before he rolled over onto his front. He gave a weak push at the ground, trying to get back up. Pain wracked his battered body and he was overwhelmed with the urge to puke again. He wrenched himself up onto fours, choking and spitting, the bile leaving his mouth and spattering wetly onto the pavement beneath his palms. He hacked and shuddered, his stomach groaning at him, painfully.

He attempted to stand, still clumsy, but he managed to get a feel at the brick wall of a building to his left and he felt along its side, carefully. His ears perked some as he concentrated, tuning them into the sounds all around him. Off in the distance, he could hear Liam's coughing – his heart ached at the sound -, and nearby him echoed the grunts and groans of the commons.

He padded along the wall, nearly falling into an alley way when said wall suddenly stopped short, but he caught himself by falling into his usual crouch. He took hesitant steps down the pavement, occasionally knocking over a common. The more he tuned in to his surroundings the easier navigating got for him. As he wandered, he felt like a cat in the dark, using all senses but his sight.

"I… I got this…" A hesitant crack of a smile met his lips as he pattered along. His mood still wavered between a little hopeful and completely terrified, but he'd try, dammit.

000

Liam felt like shit. The physical feeling was a given, sure, due to his current state of health, but this emotional feeling was something else entirely. He never liked to acknowledge his guilt, and normally he never gave a shit if he'd hurt someone, but now he just felt awful for what he'd done to Taggart. The kid was a real cocky brat, yes, but he wasn't _that_ bad. Besides, it's not like the kid could help being blind, after all.

Christ Almighty…

He pushed off the face of the building he'd been leaning against and started back down the way he'd initially came from. He ought to find Taggart before the kid fell down an open manhole, or worse, bumped into one of those big guys.

He shuddered, remembering his own experience from not too long ago.

Liam stumbled along, smoke billowing out all around his upper-half from the gas pustules. The fog got in the way of his catching Taggart's scent and he growled in frustration. He gave a clumsy wave at it and gave a deep inhale, finally catching that familiar smell.

000

End Chapter 11

Filler, filler, and more filler. It's been damn near a year since I've updated and you get filler. My apologies, really, but I guess the eye-thing sort of counts for something? That stemmed from my sister reading something or other about Hunters being blind or having no eyes or whatever. I don't know if that's actual canon, but I kind of liked the sound of that. I figured I'd have my hunters be some super-sense killing machines, and I've got this little idea that maybe their other senses become so heightened they practically fill in as a new form of sight. Pretty much like DareDevil.

Anyway, things should start picking up more in the next chapter, which I've started on, particularly baby-wise.

Again, thank you for reading, and many thanks to all the fans of this little tale who have been so very, very patient.


	12. Twelve

Municipal Wasteland 12

Holy shit, Liam is a _dick_. But, he wouldn't really be my smoker if he wasn't. I'm wondering if as a side thing I should make mini character profiles for these two, maybe give you guys a better feel of them? What do you all think?

Thanks, as always.

000

Taggart crept along the cracked, dirty sidewalk. His ears were perked and his nose wrinkled like a rabbit's as he constantly sniffed the rotten air. His gray skin crawled with the sensations of his surroundings. The little hunter was still on edge, of course, but considering everything this wasn't too bad. In fact, the blackness he 'saw' was starting to fill in every now and again with monochrome spots that faded in and out every now and again.

The more he wandered around the more he got the hang of his senses as they began to fill in for the one he lost. Currently, the worst part, other than the blindness, was the throbbing ache in his empty sockets. The gooey substance leaking out of said sockets wasn't all that great, either.

He licked his cracked, gore-caked lips and continued sniffling. He could smell prey, but just faintly, and was having a hard time locating it. The sound of the prey's blood flow seemed to pound in his ears and his stomach growled.

"Aw, man, c'mon…"

What felt like a judo-chop to his gut dropped him flat on the pavement and he coughed, the stale air escaping his lungs. "What the f-?" He wheezed. He rolled over and clutched at his belly, groaning a little, as more pangs struck within his abdomen, though not nearly as sharp as the first one.

Taggart lifted his jacket and tee and saw that his gut had swollen a little bit, his belly button beginning to jut. Blue and purple veins had begun to make a map across the shiny, stretched skin which was moving just slightly with each rumble and pang. 

He was a little weirded-out by the sight, but Taggart shoved his tops back down over his belly and let out a loud laugh. "Oh jeez, I'm probably gettin' that dead-guy gas! Ha-ha, I'm all bloated up like them bodies they got on them crime shows, oh man. I guess I must be dead or somethin'!" He gave a few more chortles before grimacing uncomfortably. "Gross, man."

The blond grunted as he carefully rolled back over onto his front, pushing him up onto his knees. He stood up, feeling around again for a wall. He palmed against some rough bricks and dug into some crevices. An appendage occasionally slipped, but he kept his footing fairly well as he scaled the wall. He slapped at empty air when he reached the top of the last floor and then hauled his body up and over onto the roof.

Taggart grunted at the effort and rubbed at his aching belly. "I think I'll just put off the food for right now… ugh."

A light sprinkling of rain began to patter down on his cool skin before a thick sheeting of it began to come down hard. He lay there, letting the grimy water soak him. It helped the pain a little, did some distracting for him.

Damn, he felt bloated.

000

If Liam's mouth and altered teeth and voice box could cooperate properly, he'd be whistling a tune of some sort. When he tried, though, it came out sounding like he was blowing sharp, spittle-packed raspberries.

He quit that and focused on following the scent that would lead him to Taggart. Despite being blind, the little bastard was being more difficult to find than he would have initially thought.

Not to mention he seemed to move pretty damn quick. It hadn't been _that_ long since he'd left him alone.

He did seem to be going the right way; unless it was done by something else, one side of the street was adorned with knocked-over trash cans and infected, some of the latter still squirming on their back like turtles.

There was also a dwindling dribbling of a blood trail from some of the wounds he caused the kid with his beating and he chose to focus on that.

The blood began to spread and fade from the rainwater, and when the trail came to a stop so did he. Any and all traces of the hunter – smell included – had been washed away by the sudden downpour of rain.

"O~f course!" He grouched, throwing his arms up in forfeit. He huffed a rough sigh and gave in to the urge to just call the stupid kid's name. "TA~GGART!" he bellowed, and immediately felt stupid for doing so. He ignored the curious grunts and stares of the nearby infected and hollered again.

Up on a rooftop a few buildings down the street, Taggart jolted up from his position and sat listening for a second. When the next call of his name rang out he scrambled to the edge of the building nearest the direction of the sound. "Liam?"

Liam jerked his head around, hearing his name, and looked until he saw a figure peeking over at him from atop one of the roofs. '_Finally!_'

"There you are! I'm coming up, okay? Hold on."

Taggart bristled, "What? No you aren't you stay right there, you asshole!"

"Hey, fuck you! I'm coming up whether you like it or not." Liam stomped over to the old building and grabbed at the wall, ascending.

"Don't – hey! HEY! I said no! Back off, you prick!" He clawed and swiped at the air where he thought Liam was going to be as the smoker avoided him and went around. Taggart jolted at the sound of a heavy thud near him. He swung heavily at the sound and felt a heavy grip tighten on each of his wrists. "What-?"

"If you give me a moment, I'll apologize to you," a grunt sounded near his face and he could smell the thick, stagnant air of his comrade's breath. Taggart growled, an angry and aggressive sound, as his body went taut and defensive.

Liam took note of all this but held his ground, and any intimidation he may have felt went ignored. He blinked the rain out of his milky eyes and kept his hold on the jerking wrists as he said – or rather, mumbled – "I'm sorry."

Taggart kept struggling, little growls rumbling deep in his throat, and he snapped, "Fuck that, no, you're not, you never are."

Liam grit his teeth and just barely managed to keep his temper steady, as he slowly replied. "While that may be true, this time I genuinely mean it. Okay?" He wanted to punch the kid – again – when he merely snorted and continued to struggle, though a little weaker than before.

The smoker sighed. Genuinely apologizing was never his favorite thing to do and always made him feel too vulnerable. Never-the-less, he needed to do this. He needed to apologize for the abuse and abandonment, as well as getting him infected in the first place. So, he did.

There was a long pause on Taggart's end as the kid 'stared' in Liam's direction. Finally, he swallowed audibly and said, "You really mean it this time? Because, like, every other time I _know_ you don't mean it, so-."

"Oh my God, kid, shut up. Yes, I meant it, and I ask that you don't delight in the severe aggravation it caused me to do so." He released the bony wrists and gave a weak shove at the smaller infected's shoulder.

The kid grunted, as that particular shoulder had a bruise, but cracked a smile. He had to admit, he hated being so easily led by this guy, but… he was more than glad to have company again.

"Wanna get out of the rain? I fuckin' hate wet clothes." Liam asked.

"No argument there," Taggart shrugged and reached for the smoker, "But you gotta carry me to a new hidey-hole."

"What? Fuck that noise, you can walk just fine. You found your way up here alright, didn't you?" He shoved passed the younger male and stepped to the edge of the slick roof.

"Yeh, I did. But, you were a complete douche to me, so I think it's only fair I get a free ride out of it." Taggart went for Liam only to very nearly tumble off the roof.

Clutching at the clumsy hunter, Liam groaned. "Fine," He snapped, "But only this once. No way am I haulin' your chunky ass all over the city."

"Yeh, whatever, ya crybaby." He clambered up his lover's stooped back and clung tightly. "Giddy-up."

Liam rolled his eyes and adjusted the heavy body before easing his way over the edge. He carefully made his way down the high brick wall, grateful that Taggart didn't make it too difficult. He held back a relieved sigh when the soles of his battered Chuck's met the soaked pavement.

After fifteen minutes of half-assed, rain-soaked searching, the two found a comfortable little apartment that'd been long-since abandoned by its previous owners. The door was easy enough to break from the lock, and since they were the first to do so, the apartment was in fairly good shape, still organized and cleanly.

The warmth of the former home hit them and they realized how cold it'd been outside. The two infected peeled of their wet clothes and draped them over chairs in the dining room to dry before burying themselves under the heavy sheets of the lone bed.

Taggart sighed and nuzzled into the pillows and sheets. They were clean and home-like, reeking pleasantly of detergent, a very welcome change from the apocalyptic world outside. He was grateful that in his monster-like state he was still able to appreciate things like this.

He turned his eye-less head in Liam's direction when the brunet remarked at his size. "What?" He asked, not quite hearing the question.

"I asked, '_When did you get so bloated?_'." A jab at his rounded belly – when had it gotten even bigger? – proved this. "It wasn't like that when I fucked ya last night."

"Ow. I don't know, some time today. I think it's built-up gases or something. I mean, I'm not actually dead, so I have no idea." He rubbed at the sore spot where Liam's nail had been.

"You look like a pregnant bitch."

Taggart scowled, "Yeh, gee, thanks. You are the epitome of couth, my friend."

Liam snorted and shrugged. "Well, ya do." He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, noting the posters tacked up there. '_That band sucks ass…_'

Taggart felt around at his gut, the pads of his fingers running over the jutting veins and belly button. "Ugh, now that you mention it… Thanks, asshole, now I can't un-think that image. Feels creepier than before…"

"Well, if your body decides it's gonna explode or something, make sure you don't get too much of your guts on me. I'm already coated in enough gore." The smoker rolled over on his side and faced the wall, adorned with more posters of things he hated, and closed his eyes.

"Ya know what, if I'm gonna explode I'll be sure to lay down on top of you so you'll be covered in it. Gain you a second skin." He too rolled over, but faced the smoker's bony back. He passed out within minutes.

000

Taggart was sore from head to clawed toe, most of the aching centered in his abdomen. He sat up, groaning, and a hand clutched his gut. He flinched at the feel of his belly, the area having gotten larger.

"Gross… Musta been somethin' I ate."

He looked to his left and saw Liam still knocked out, bile and drool dribbling out of his mouth between rotting, dagger-like teeth. A slight wheezing breath gasped out of him every other second. Taggart smiled.

He also jolted.

Clawed fingers were hesitantly brought up to his eye area, feeling for the sockets. The goo-crusted pits were still empty, no eyes at all. How the hell was he seeing? He moved his hands out in front of him and then watched as he slowly brought them back to his face. He couldn't really blink, but even if the little flaps of skin moved, they didn't get in the way of his view. In fact, he couldn't see the lids at all.

Holy shit, how was he doing this?

A hesitant but hopeful smile cracked across his bloody, bruised face and he gasped a tiny laugh. "No way…!"

Everything was in monochrome, and a little blurred and grainy around the edges, but Sweet Christ, he could see again! He didn't know how, but he didn't really care, either. He also noticed that every time he moved, the objects, mainly any in his focus, wavered and gave of a neat glowing effect. Maybe he'd gained some sort of weird zombie radar, like a bat or a dolphin?

He was so excited by his ability to see again that he'd forgotten about the growing pain in his belly. A sharp jab from within was quick to remind him and he lurched forward, blistered arms immediately wrapping around his midsection. He hissed through his teeth, grinding them awkwardly as the pain got worse.

"Fuck, man, if it ain't one thing…" he bit, holding tighter to himself. He untangled his legs from the now-grimy sheets and gingerly eased himself out of the bed, stalking towards the bathroom. He stepped onto the cool tiling and flicked the light on, closing the door behind him. He sat on the edge of the tub and looked down at his swollen middle.

'_Startin' to look like that fat guy that blew u- oh, shit, I hope I'm not, like, evolvin' into one o' those!_' He bit his lip and his brows furrowed. His bony fingers felt all around the swelling and he grimaced further.

Taggart almost fell backwards into the tub when a small section of the swelling jutted out before smoothing again. "The fu-?" He clapped a dirty hand over his mouth; he didn't want to wake Liam. He kept staring and, sure enough, there was more jutting near where the first instance had been.

The sight made him feel sick. Bile rose and stung the back of his throat and he turned, letting it out against the porcelain of the bottom of the tub. Bloodied, dark vomit spattered across the tub's once-pristine white surface and didn't stop for another minute. 

He spat a few times and shakily straightened up, scowling. He coughed and cleared his burning throat. The hunter slipped off the tub's edge and slunk to the chilly floor, pulling his knees up until his thighs nudged his belly. He could feel more of the jutting bumping against those thighs, and he worried at his chapped, bloody lip. There was a creeping suspicion in the back of his mind, gnawing at him and giving him a very uncomfortable idea of what may be wrong with him.

He really, _really_ didn't want to believe that shit. I mean, that kind of thing just wasn't possible! Science didn't permit this kind of crap. Then again, it used to be said that science didn't permit anything like the Green Flu, or the ability to see clearly without fucking eyeballs.

Oh, Christ.

Nah, nah, maybe… maybe it was just one of those weird-ass side-effects that came along with the infection. Hell, Liam could be going through this soon enough, right?

Right?

"Oh, fuck me." Taggart sagged against the outer wall of the tub and sighed. Each second that passed convinced him more and more that there was some mutant-child lying around in his insides, that this wasn't a general side-effect. Somehow, through some punch to the face of Science, he was going to be a dad. Or something.

"Gee, and Ma always wanted grandkids," he snapped, brows furrowed and jaw set in a frown.

Yeh, he was _not_ looking forward to telling Liam.

000

Liam was draped across the old couch in the living room when Taggart came out of the bedroom, fully-dressed. Their filthy clothes had dried – mostly – and were now adorning their gray bodies again.

The smoker looked up at his hunter and immediately furrowed his dark brows. "Why the fuck're you gettin' bigger?" He asked, pointing.

Taggart looked down at the protrusion in his hoodie and shrugged. "Umm… dunno, man, I think… uh, nevermind. Yeh, nevermind," the last sentence was barely audible; it was a drawn-out mumble. He slid his hands in his front pockets and shuffled his feet, looking like an over-grown school boy.

Liam frowned, brows practically becoming knit together. He waved away the smoke cloud that had accumulated from his pustules and leaned forward a little. "Something you're not tellin' me, kid?"

"Ah, um, no. Nothin', man, I just… don't worry about it," he shook his head.

"Taggart…"

"Oh, I, uh, I can see again! Did I already tell you that?" The hunter hurriedly threw a distraction at the brunet, not wanting to talk about the… other thing.

"No… what do you mean 'see', you don't have any eyeballs?" The smoker looked confused, now.

"I dunno, I, like, woke up real early this mornin' and when I did I could see. I think it's echo-location or something, you know like what some animals have? I think my other senses are doing for me. It's weird."

Liam squinted and nodded slowly. "That was… quick."

Taggart shrugged, "I guess it's the virus; this shit's insane, man, it's, like, makin' us evolve or somethin'."

"Huh. Well, glad to know I won't have to be your seeing-eye-dog." The lanky male leaned back against the couch and stared toward the TV, watching the static as it buzzed and hissed. "So," he continued, "What else're ya hidin'?"

The hunter flinched. Damn, he was perceptive. '_Well, better now than have him find out when the kid comes bursting out like "_Alien_"…_' He swallowed hard and 'looked' to the floor. "I, uh… shit. I think I'm pregnant, dude."

There was an awkward pause before Liam threw his pustule-coated head back and burst out laughing – it would've sounded like lilting hacks and coughs to a normal human. "Ha-ha, you idiot. But seriously, what is it? Ya dyin'?"

Taggart hesitantly stepped over towards the older male and took one of his hands. He guided the appendage up his hoodie and pressed it against the smooth surface of his midsection.

"What're you-?" Liam furrowed his brows again and moved to take his hand back, but froze when something small and hard struck against his open palm. It happened a second time and Taggart let go. Liam's hand slipped lamely from under the grimy jacket and dropped to the couch. The smoker slowly stood to his full height and faced the younger male.

The hunter cringed and prepared for a hit – either verbal or physical - that didn't come.

"Taggart, that shit's not possible." His voice was matter-of-fact and very flat. The blond let go of a breath he'd been holding. He gave another weak shrug and his fingers fiddled with some loose threads in the jacket pocket.

"I don't get it either, man, but, like I said, this Green Flu-."

"Nope." The smoker eased his way around the coffee table and went for the front door. He clumsily unlocked it before stepping outside and slamming it shut behind him. Taggart stood there, mouth agape, and only just then realizing how bad he'd been shaking.

That's it? That was Liam's reaction? No beating, no yelling, no name-calling? That definitely wasn't the one Taggart had been expecting. Frankly, he wasn't sure which one would've made him more uneasy.

He stayed there for a few minutes until his legs became sore from standing. He dropped into a crouch to ease them. He crawled to the window and peered outside. He saw Liam saunter from the building and step out into the street. Ambling common infected were shoved aside, some even getting their skulls crushed by huge hands when they attempted to shove back. The smoker wandered into an alleyway and disappeared from sight.

Something about the whole situation and Liam's eerily calm mood made Taggart's skin crawl like it was hoarding spiders. He gave a shudder and crept back over to the couch. He hopped up and nested himself into a ball, like a terrier, and curled into a light sleep. He'd have to figure some things out, and quick.

000

**End Chapter 12**

I like to think that the virus is, well, like any living thing, and wants to expand, wants to thrive and continue. So, to do this, it mutates its host in various adaptable ways, including building a make-shift womb and egg cells for some males, and reinforcing the natural ones for females. Thus, Taggart being able to defy normal science and make a mutant-baby with Liam.

Fear not, there will be no ass-babies in any future chapters. There'll be something C-section-y. Thanks for reading, and thanks for your patience. More on the way!


	13. Thirteen

**Municipal Wasteland 13**

_Balls._

000

A heavy clap of the hands and another common's head exploded. The skull, made brittle by the virus, popped and gore spattered like confetti.

It'd been a few blocks since Taggart had told him. Liam was all kinds of things at once; angry, stunned, confused, scared… Many different thoughts had spun around in his plagued head, most of them resulting in some form of harm to Taggart and the little monstrosity.

He wanted to destroy it.

But, he was conflicted. Sure, he wanted to throw Taggart and the "kid" into the path of a tank, not have to deal with their troubles anymore. He wanted to rip into Taggart, smash his head in, and tear the kid apart. He wanted to stomp the child into a gory pulp and forget the both of them. Nothin' but caring for his own self from then on out.

And then another part of him, an annoyingly good-guy sort of part, wanted to protect his little "family" with the utmost ferocity. His instincts told him to keep Taggart and the little one safe, and may God have mercy on any creature who tried to get in the way of his doing so. They were _his_. His family, his bloodline, his future. _It's_ – that virus' - survival…

Man, fuck that virus. Fuck the Green Flu and everything it's done – will ever do.

Liam bellowed in choking frustration, a heavy, pustule-coated fist caving in the face of a common and loudly denting a graffiti-smothered dumpster.

The noise attracted some attention from some nearby infected, though they hurriedly scattered when he whirled on them, gnashing his filthy teeth and snarling.

There was another noise. Behind him, something in the dented, brain-spattered dumpster moved. He would've figured it to be rats had the unfortunate survivor within not started panting in panic.

The smoker coughed once and crept forward. His slimy tongue began to dribble out of his mouth and the appendage wriggled and writhed towards the rusty metal lid. It wrapped around the locking hinge and dragged the lid up, setting it against the brick wall. A terrified gasp and a whimper emitted from the dark grunge inside.

The brunet's gut was now pressed against the metal side and he hunched forward, dipping his clawed hand into the shadows of the giant bin. He swiped through empty air and the occasional piece of trash until his fingertips grazed some greasy strands of hair. The hairs slipped from his grasp as the prey scurried as far away as it could, but he was quick, and in a millisecond he had those strands and more gripped tightly in his fingers.

He pulled, hard.

The prey – a middle-aged female, by the sounds of it - shrieked and clawed at his arm, popping blisters and filling the canister with grimy smoke. She coughed and wheezed through the haze. Her scalp ached terribly and she sobbed through her choking. The woman felt her body being pulled and lifted as much as she tried to fight it, but she greedily gulped the fresher air she got when she was finally hauled out of the dumpster by her hair.

Any comfort she may have gotten from being able to breath again was instantaneously sapped from her as her blue eyes met his milky ones. Her round mouth gaped and sputtered, fear taking her voice, as his own bared rotten teeth and spilled bloody drool down his chin.

A low, rumbling snarl filled the empty air of the darkened alleyway. The terrified woman was able to emit one last little squeak of fear before, with that same swiftness, Liam's diseased mouth clamped tightly around her throat.

His powerful jaws held her in place just enough that he was able to reach behind and around her flailing arms and bury his fingers into her back. She jolted and froze violently at the sudden burst of raw pain. She was granted a small mercy, however, when he got a hold of her spine and gave a flick of his wrist. The bone discs audibly misaligned and tore her spinal cord, killing her instantly.

Liam's gore-drenched fingers slid out of her gaping wounds and he grabbed her, tossing the limp, cooling body over his good shoulder. As he turned to exit the alleyway, he saw at least ten sets of blank eyes staring at him. Their expressions were hopeful and their grungy mouths spilled drool and groans everywhere.

He roughly shoved passed them and shook off their grasping, invading hands as they wailed hungrily. Vicious hacks and growls rang from his throat, and he used his free arm to rip and swipe at those pestering paws all around him. A few limbs were left in his wake by the time the commons got it through their empty little heads that they were definitely _not_ invited to any feasting.

Some still whimpered and reached out at his retreating back. "H-hungry," one of them whined.

When the greedy, predatorial haze dissipated from his mind, he realized he was only a few yards from his and Taggart's latest nest. He stopped and looked toward the old apartment building and huffed, thinking.

That little selfish part of him still raged about the consequences that were bound to come along with letting Taggart and the brat live, but it was more than over-powered by the instinctual part. Those instincts nagged for him to take that food on his shoulder and feed his brood, and then protect them 'til his end.

He couldn't lie; the desire to kill them was still pretty strong, but…

The corpse on his shoulder and he continued his trudge to their nest.

000

Taggart literally leapt three feet in the air when a heavy knocking rang out in the empty apartment. Still groggy from his all-too-brief nap, he slid off the couch and crawled to the door. He strafed to the side and then bent back on his haunches, ready to pounce on any intruders. He was fat with pregnancy, yes, but he was brave.

At least he'd like to continue thinking that. Whatever. He bent and felt his muscles go taut. Baby or not, he was still a damn hunter, and -.

When the handle to the door jiggled and clicked, the big panel of wood crept open and in stomped Liam, the small body of a woman draped over his un-pustule-d shoulder.

Taggart sunk into himself and backed off. Liam's way-too-chill reaction still had him freaked out.

The lanky smoker kicked the door shut and went towards the kitchen where he dropped the ragdoll body onto the linoleum and sat. He lifted a cold arm and tore into it, savoring the taste and feel. He held back a moan. "Get in here and eat," he said around a mouthful of meat.

The little hunter gingerly left the security of his self-ball and crept into the small kitchen. He eased around the older male and went to the other side of the body where he tore the remaining shirt cloth off the former woman.

He bent and sniffed the skin of her stomach. His mouth instantly watered; he'd forgotten how hungry he'd been since his last meal, and this kid inside him only managed to make that little urge worse. Not wasting another second, he plunged into her guts with snapping jaws and wolfed down whatever came into contact with them.

Liam watched his hunter dig in and something akin to pride in his mate settled. He furrowed his brow at that and continued stripping everything from the bones in the arm he held.

Outside in the streets, a group of infected hung out under their window, reaching and garbling for the food they weren't allowed to have, palms pounding and slapping against the hard brick.

Both specials ignored their starving compatriots and continued their ravenous feeding. Liam, despite his own animal hunger, let Taggart have most of the meal, only eating an arm, a leg, and whatever else the younger male left behind.

While he ate, Taggart wondered what the hell was using Liam's body as a host. This wasn't the same Liam he'd started out this bat-shit-crazy adventure with. He was… calmed, nice. Or, at least nice enough not to take most of the food, let alone punch him in the face just because.

It was creeping him out. It's not like he_ liked_ douchebag-Liam, he just really wasn't used to anything other than that. Maybe the idea of a kid had done something to him to change his mind? Weird. He never figured Liam for the fatherly-type.

When Liam was done with his portions he stood up and stepped out into the living room. Taggart sat up and peeked through the kitchen 'window' and watched the smoker open the front door. He chanced a, "Where ya goin'?"

"Out," the smoker grunted. He was about to close the door, but hesitated. He leaned back into the room and said, "I'll be back in a bit. Just… I dunno, chill here or something. Don't go wandering." He closed the door behind him and Taggart could hear the echoes of his descent through the stairwell.

The blond crammed a chunk of flesh into his gullet and stepped over the mini-massacre. On all-fours again, he bounded for the window, leaving bloody prints behind him. He peered over the ledge and, ignoring the still-ravenous commons, watched Liam step out onto the street and wander off. He disappeared from view after a minute when he rounded a corner.

The hunter continued looking out the window, nose pressed to the glass like a curious puppy as he watched the goings-on of the city. Everything was in a bland monochrome, but the sounds were loud and plenty colorful. Screams rang through the streets, gunfire and roars thundered all around. Fires crackled and buildings caved in.

These sounds and sights had become too familiar to him, but they were home. Well, as home-y as they could get, considering.

He turned and looked around the room. Jeez, this was gonna be boring. He understood where Liam was coming from by telling him to stay here, but dammit if he didn't want to be out there with the older man, just doing whatever.

God, he missed parkour. He scuffed at the carpeting and began crawling around the apartment in circles. He was actually _good_ at parkour now! And of course, instead of hopping around and doing tricks he wasn't capable of as his clumsy human self, he had to sit around in this boring old apartment and deal with the kicking from his offspring.

"This sucks on ice," he snapped, rounding the back bedroom for the second time, now. He wondered where Liam had gone off to.

The infected in question was currently busy breaking into an office supply store.

000

Liam cursed through another wave of coughs as he brushed the tiny shards of glass that had once made up the store window off his body. He stepped further into the store, not surprisingly un-looted, and found what he was looking for. In an aisle brightly-labeled "Back-2-School!" sat a cache of backpacks, all in varying sizes and colors.

He grabbed a roomy-looking black one and slid his arms through the loops. Hefting it until it was comfortably adjusted; Liam exited the store through the gaping window frame and stepped back out onto the pavement. Turning to the building, he grabbed hold of the brick and clambered up to the rooftop where he searched for a particular sign.

A short distance away, Mercy Hospital's glowing green beacon shone through the thick haze of smoke. He nodded to himself and leapt off the one-story building, the soles of his Chucks smacking onto the sidewalk. The infected bounded for the hospital, estimating it to be about a mile's walk from where he'd seen the sign.

After a long trudge through said mile's-worth of Hell on Earth, Liam finally made his way into the towering building that was Mercy Hospital. He hoped he'd find what he was looking for here; with any luck, the looters hadn't taken everything, yet. He'd dug into the back of an ambulance not a minute ago, but there'd been nothing but bloodstains and a wrecked stretcher.

It'd taken a few floors, but he'd finally managed to find a room that, for the most part, had been un-ravaged. A hack of relief escaped him. Finally. He slid his arms out of the backpack straps and dropped the bag to the floor before unzipping it. The brunet hauled open all the cabinets and began to rummage through them, pulling out all that he needed.

He wasn't a doctor by any means; he'd used to pushed papers for a law office for a living. But, he figured he knew what would be useful for whenever it was that the little monster wanted to make its way out of Taggart's guts.

A chilly shiver ran up his spine at the mere thought. Holy fuck, he hoped that little mutant wouldn't kill the kid.

The smoker shook his foggy head and finished cramming the medical supplies into his backpack. He zipped it up and threw it onto his back, and then went for the room's lone window. No use wandering through the other floors when he could just clamber the wall. He brought a fist up and broke the glass.

He climbed up onto the ledge and eased outside, starting his descent. As a human, the height probably would've made him sick. Now, it was merely an obstacle, nothing to for him to fear. Within the span of several minutes his feet were back on the ground and he was already on his way home to Taggart.

This whole situation still made him plenty uncomfortable, but he was going to try his best to get passed that and do whatever was required of him. His sense of survival had heightened to a damn near insane level from all of this.

000

Taggart was scrambling about the apartment, desperate to find a place to hide. Outside the door, a small group of survivors were attempting to break in. He'd gracelessly put the chain lock in place, but it wouldn't hold for long. A muscular, tattooed arm had already made its way through the crack and was attempting to undo the lock.

After a moment, the arm could go no further and it was pulled back. "Dammit," cursed a gruff voice, "Zoey, your arm's tiny. Why don't ya get that lock undone?"

Ah! The window! Why hadn't he thought of that in the first place?

"I told you before to let _me_ do it, Francis," a much more feminine voice sighed. "Step aside, boys," a notably smaller arm, covered in a pink and white sleeve, went in through the opening and grabbed the end of the chain lock, starting to undo it.

Taggart punched the window out of its frame, the glass pattering onto the shotgun-blasted corpses underneath.

"'The hell was that?" asked a third voice.

"We're about to find out. Got it." The latch clicked and the chain fell, the door opening.

Eye sockets widening, Taggart leapt onto the windowpane and grabbed at the brick wall, hurriedly making his way for the roof.

"Damn, stupid crawler got away," He heard the gruff guy say, his shotgun cocking loudly, "I wanted to make him into a pasta strainer."

"Aw, sick! Change o' plans, we are _NOT_ camping out, here!" a fourth voice cried, everyone else quickly consenting. Sounds like they found the remains of his and Liam's latest meal. '_Shoulda taken a bone with me to gnaw on…_'

The hunter lie down on his back and rubbed at his aching belly. "Stop kicking, dude, that shit fuckin' hurts," he grunted, petting at a spot that'd just dealt with the tiny infected's wrath. His gut was huge, now. He was glad this hoodie was two sizes too big; otherwise it'd probably be un-wearable.

He watched the sky above him, or rather, the massive wall of smoke and light pollution, and sighed. His powerful legs ached with the desire to go springing around about the buildings, but he knew that'd be too dangerous right now.

Man, where the hell was Liam?

000

**End Chapter 13.**

_Ugh, finally getting somewhere, ha! My apologies for any errors that I missed while going over this. Thank you for reading this far into it, whether you're a fan or not. I really appreciate it. _

_Also, I've started on a little one-shot that's going to be done in the perspective of a common infected, so please be on the look-out for that. _


	14. Fourteen

**Municipal Wasteland 14**

_Zombie baby'll be around, soon. Going to be just a little bit of filler until that bit. Here we go! _

000

Liam froze when he saw that the brick wall and the corpses resting near it were peppered with buckshot. He saw the glints of glass shards decorating the little grave and looked up to see the window to their apartment had been smashed.

Something instinctive kicked in and he sprang for the wall, scaling it to get to the open window. He clambered through the open frame, glass shards tearing into his gray skin, and landed heavily on the dirty carpet. He stood and shook off some of the glass, and then started inspecting his invaded home. There were multiple sets of dirty footprints – four that didn't belong to the two infected – leading to all the rooms before rounding back to the front door.

The only things seeming amiss were the footprints, raided kitchen and bathroom cabinets, and a single bullet hole in the middle of a painted landscape hanging crookedly on the wall. Okay. Okay, good. No blood and gore other than what was already there or had been dragged in by the new sets of footprints.

…But where was Taggart? The only body was the one in the kitchen… He sniffed the air and found it was still fairly fresh with the hunter's scent. He turned and the scent became stronger near the window. The smoker went to the square opening in the wall and leaned out, nostrils flaring.

The kid was nearby. Very, very near, but where?

A few stories above Liam, Taggart inhaled a breath and got a whiff of putrid smoke. He sniffed again and rolled onto his front as best he could and crept for the edge of the roof. He peered down and, sure enough, there was a frantic-looking Liam with his upper half hanging out of their window.

"Liam."

If the smoker hadn't caught himself he would've fallen out of the window from his jolt of surprise. He craned his neck as much as the smoke pockets would allow and saw a grinning Taggart looking down at him. The brunet latched onto the wall and eased himself all the way out before carefully ascending. Once he had a grasp on the side of the roof, Taggart helped pull him up over the lip of the edge.

Liam set his feet against the tar and cement and sat down, his frame sagging from relief. After a moment, he looked up at Taggart and asked, "What the hell happened?"

"Survivors broke into the apartment. I got up here before they really saw me, though, but it was really fucking close. …Hey, where'd you get that backpack?" The younger male jabbed at the shoulder straps on the elder's front, distracted.

Liam waved off the kid's prying hand, mildly annoyed. "Never mind that, stupid. Are you okay?"

Taggart shrugged, "Other than the kid trying punch his way out of my gut, yeh. A little riled, is all." Both of them sighed and went silent for a moment before Taggart broke it with, "Are we gonna have to move, again?"

Liam thought for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yeh, probably. Not all that safe here anymore. The city in general isn't even remotely safe, but, y'know. Whatever. So, why did they come into our apartment? They hear you creeping around or something?"

"Well, from what I could hear when I got up on the roof, they were breaking into every apartment that wasn't totally locked." 

"Why didn't you lock ours?"

"I put the chain on!" The smoker rolled his eyes and palmed his forehead for a moment before standing up and going for the edge of their latest ex-home. Taggart followed behind him, asking, "We leaving now?"

"Unless there's something in the apartment you need to go and get, yes, we are."

"Oh. Okay," He looked around before "meeting" Liam's eyes. "Where to?"

"Dunno. Just follow me," the lanky figure lunged to the rooftop adjacent to theirs and began running, scaling gaps and obstructions along the way. In a second, the little hunter was bounding along right behind him, careful of his bloated belly. The two infected could hear gunshots and survivor voices resounding fairly close by and they made sure to avoid the direction those noises were coming from.

000

After a good ten minutes of running around the hunter slowed and eventually came to a stop, slumping a little and scowling. Christ, all this activity was really wearing him out… "Dude, gimme a minute, I need to rest real quick."

Liam also stopped some feet ahead before turning back to Taggart, seeing the boy seated and panting. Brows furrowed, he went over to the kid and crouched. He cupped the other's chin in a clawed hand and looked him over, brows knitting further. "You seriously tired?" He asked.

Taggart nodded, still panting like a dog. Sweat slid down the smooth gray skin of his face, mingling with the dried gore around the eye pits. His body shook with the sharp inhales and exhales of rancid breath. He gestured to his middle. "This kid, man, it's drainin' me. Don't have the energy I did a few days ago."

"Obviously," The smoker mumbled. He released his mate's face and sat back on his haunches, long arms draped over his knees. His bloodshot eyes stared off at something in the distance as he sat thinking.

"Hey," the hunter spoke up, "You didn't tell me why ya got a backpack." Liam's hazy eyes flickered in his direction at the comment.

"I took it from an office supply store. It's got medical junk in it, shit I stole from the hospital," He replied, removing the bag from his shoulders. He set it down in front of Taggart and the hunter unzipped it, beginning to sift through it contents. The boy blanched at something in there.

"That's, uh… that's _a lot_ of stitches and painkillers…"

Liam sighed and scratched at a pustule on the left side of his face, careful not to pop it. "Well, unless you want that kid burrowing out your ass you're gonna have to get cut open," He stated, flatly.

"Oh. Oh, fuck. Like-like a C-section or some shit…?" His face read panic.

The smoker awkwardly patted the kid's head before looking off again, "Yeh, I guess. You'll be fine, though, I just… gotta figure out a way to keep you calm or something. Might have to knock you out, again…" his speech drifted off as he thought harder.

Taggart was still, his face pale and expression not at all thrilled. "Oh, man."

The two were quiet, city sounds filling in like always, as they gave some thought to things. Night would be on them pretty soon, and they both had the nagging feeling they wouldn't be getting any sleep.

000

"Mmf, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Taggart thrashed against the uneven tar of the rooftop, body in absolute agony.

Liam was trying his hardest to quiet the hunter, but that was getting increasingly harder to do the more he trashed around and bit at him. He yanked his fingers back just in time as the kid's jaws snapped hard at them.

"Shut the fuck up, you're gonna bring all kinds o' shit here!" He hissed, wrenching a flailing arm away from his face.

"Fuck you, Liam; you ain't got a fuckin' kid trying to get out of y-AAAAGGGHHHH!" His jaws snapped open and a raw, inhuman shriek ripped from his throat, his back arching and body stiffening. He slumped back against the roof and looked up at Liam with wide eyes.

"Knock me out, man," He begged, his chest heaving with ragged, uneven breaths, "_Knock me out!_"

Frantic and un-thinking, Liam resorted to the same tactic he'd used when the kid's eyes decided to stroll out of his head; he punched him, hard and quick, to the temple. Taggart's writhing body went limp and his horrible screams halted. The smoker's whole body shook and he stared, arm still raised and ready to strike again. The suddenly-silent hunter unnerved him, but not nearly as much as the sight of the moving abdomen did. Little "paws" were all too clear as they pressed up against the tight skin.

The smoker shuddered and pulled Taggart's blue hoodie off, tossing the jacket to the side. He reached for some supplies that he'd dumped out of the bag, sifting through some things until he found what he needed at the moment and grabbed it before turning back to the problem at hand.

A shaky sigh broke the silence and Liam raised the scalpel, hovering it just above the taut gray skin.. He hesitated for a second, and then carefully pressed it to the side of the mound that was Taggart's stomach. Thick, dark blood began to ooze and dribble from the line he dragged around it. He guessed on what length of the cut was good enough, and when he was satisfied, he hooked a few claws under the newly-made skin flap. With careful movements, the infected gingerly lifted the skin and fat layers and gently pushed them aside, thanking whatever mercy there was that the improvised womb was the first thing he encountered.

He didn't want to sift through any more organs than was already necessary.

Thick blood poured from the opening, and the smoker scowled at the vein-y, pinkish sac that throbbed and shifted with the cub inside of it. Small tears had already been made in the tissue from tiny claws and teeth, and before the kid could do more dammage, Liam took the scalpel and made another careful incision. He did the same with this flap as he had with the others and pulled it back, more blood and amniotic fluid escaping, to reveal the wicked little beast that'd been causing Taggart so much pain.

The baby-infected, a boy, shrieked into the cold night and gulped in a lungful of diseased air. Its little arms and legs thrashed and flailed about, small body jerking. It wanted out. Liam released a breath he'd been holding and grabbed for the baby-thing, yanking it up and out of the 'womb' to set it down on the wrinkled hoodie. He severed the umbilical cord and slapped the womb shut.

A needle and thick suturing thread were already in hand when he set back to work. Liam had little to no idea if what he was doing was correct; he'd only ever sewn torn parts of clothing every now and again. He'd never done much beyond that, let alone close a body and its parts back up! He shook off some of the anxiety as best he could and continued making crude stitches along the incision, shushing at the whining baby infected every now and again.

After a few long moments, the womb was sewn back up, tight and unorganized. It was clumsy and looked horrible, fluids still dribbling from the tiny openings, but he figured it was nothing serious and that it was the best he was going to get.

He chanced a look at Taggart. By some great mercy, the kid was still unconscious. Liam bit his lip and furrowed his brow; the punch may have been harder than necessary, and he hoped he hadn't done any damage.

Shaking his head, he returned his stare to the remainder of his task. The smoker took another deep breath before nodding to himself. He pulled the muscle, fat, and skin layers back into their normal position and pierced the needle and new threading in.

A long and slow amount of time passed before he finished tying the multiple knots at the end of the thread, and he finalized everything by dumping some disinfectant – couldn't hurt, right? – on the messy stitching.

There. Good as… good as new. Yeh. Totally.

Shit.

He really, really hoped this whole thing wouldn't end up killing Taggart…

Liam pulled a small hospital blanket from the bottom of the backpack and settled it over the unconscious hunter. He looked to the fidgeting baby still nestled in Taggart's hoodie and re-wrapped him in it. The cub snapped and yelped at him, but clung like a parasite when he pulled the bundle close to his chest in a protective embrace.

The smoker eased himself onto his side and pressed his back against his hunter's side. The child wriggled in his arms for a short while, grunting and mewling some before it finally fell asleep. Liam wasn't too far behind him, his milky eyes fluttering shut and his breathing slowing even more. With any luck, Taggart and the cub would still be alive when he woke up. He had to smother the grating sense of doubt that was creeping up in the back of his mind.

…Christ, he needed a cigarette.

000

**End of Chapter 14**

_Criminy, I am so sorry for the long wait, especially since this chapter isn't very long... I also apologize if things seem a bit rushed; I didn't want to go into a ridiculous amount of detail – though, I probably already did, ha – and I just wanted to get the "birthing" scene out of the way. A big, big thank-you to all of you who have been so patient!_


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